


A Touch Of Respect

by ConsentFest, donnarafiki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Molly Has Old Fashioned Parenting Habbits, Panic Attacks, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Past Minor Character Death (Astoria), St Mungo's Hospital, Supportive Harry Potter, Touch Phobia, hospitalized child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-10-27 03:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17759354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsentFest/pseuds/ConsentFest, https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnarafiki/pseuds/donnarafiki
Summary: Five year old Scorpius isn't fond of people touching him, and he has a million reasons for it. However, his father is of the opinion that just saying 'no' should be enough without giving any of those reasons, but not everyone in his new-found family agrees.





	A Touch Of Respect

**Author's Note:**

> Biggest, biggest thank you to my 3 amazing beta's, without whom this fic would not be here. Seriously, so much of this fic was written while half asleep and you do not want to know how many times they had to change darco to draco. 
> 
> On another quick note, at first glance it might look like this fic treats Molly less than kindly, but I want to assure you that I wrote this from a place of love. No one is perfect, and that includes Molly, but characters are lovable *because* of their flaws. And I didn't tag this with Happy Ending for no reason<3

“May I have some tea, Dad?” Scorpius asked, pulling on the leg of his trousers. Draco smiled and knelt down. His young son was doing his best to be as articulate as possible.

“Yes, you may, Scorpius.” He held out a hand. “Shall I join you on your quest to the kitchen?”

“Yes please!” Scorpius nodded enthusiastically and took his hand. Draco had to duck a bit as he got up in order not to pull his kid off the ground, but he was used to that by now. He’d been a single parent for nearly two years. Some days were hard, some days felt nearly impossible, but every day was rewarding. “Can I have dar-jee-ling, Daddy?”

Draco chuckled and shot Scorpius a proud smile when he successfully pronounced darjeeling. “Because you ask so nicely, yes.”

Scorpius was not always such a model child. Or at least, he wasn’t always this polite. Only in settings like these, when he was surrounded by strange people, did he pronounce his r’s and t’s properly and did he make sure there were no grass stains on his knees. It was the result of a less than amazing childhood, which said something given that Scorp was only five years old.

“Oh, let me make that for you, dearie.” Draco hadn’t noticed her, but suddenly the Weasley matriarch stood in front of them, smiling brightly as she took Scorpius’ hand from him. Scorpius shot an uncomfortable look at his dad, but the need to be polite stopped him from speaking up. Draco would have done so for him, but he missed the moment as Molly kneeled down and pulled Scorpius to her chest. “Your dad can get something to eat while we make you tea in the kitchen. He looks like he could use a good meal.”

The stern look that went with the last of her words had Draco mute for several seconds as Molly walked off with his son. This was only their second meal at the Burrow. The first had been a while back on, New Year’s eve, but Scorpius had fallen asleep by ten, providing an excellent excuse to leave early. They had no such luck now, as Ron’s birthday party had started in the early afternoon.

“Did Molly scare you?” Suddenly two strong arms wrapped around him from behind and he had a head leaning on his shoulder. Harry, current boyfriend and forever pain in the arse, was the reason he was there at all, making awkward small talk with people he either barely knew or had hated as a child. Thankfully that was well behind him now, but it didn’t mean he was having a great time.

“Molly did no such thing.” Draco huffed, offended by the notion even though it was a tiny bit true. “She’s just getting Scorpius some tea.”

“Those two things don’t exclude each other, babe.” Harry chuckled again and kissed his neck. Draco pried his arms loose and turned around, sending his lover a mild glare.

“You know I don’t like it when you do that.”

“Sorry.” Harry apologised. He even had the decency to look sheepish. “I didn’t really think about it. You just looked so tense, I wanted to make you relax.”

“And I appreciate it, Harry, but I can’t do that,” Draco replied, lowering his voice until it was almost a whisper. “This is-, _hard_ for me. Etiquette for all kinds of situations have been drilled into me since I was two years old _except_ for those I need when meeting the in-laws of my _boyfriend_. I have no idea what I’m doing, or what I am supposed to do for that matter.”

“Just relax, Draco, please.” Harry chuckled as he spotted Draco’s annoyed glare. _Just relax_ had never been useful advice in the entire history of planet Earth. “I promise you they won’t bite.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Ginny looks like she wouldn’t back away from the opportunity,” Draco replied, which wasn’t even all that far from the truth. Ginny didn’t mind him, but when they went out together, her humour was more often than not at his expense. “Or James, next time he’s playing vampire.”

“He apologised for that!” Harry butted in, sounding slightly offended even though it had clearly been a joke. Harry’s eldest son could do no wrong in his eyes, even though he did in the eyes of many others. The divorce had been rough on him because James was the only one of the kids who really remembered his parents being happy together. “Besides, you can’t blame him. You’re pale and you don’t like sunlight. It’s almost as if you were asking for it.”

“Don’t-, don’t like sunlight?” Draco sputtered, maybe with a bit more drama than was called for, but he knew Harry liked that about him. “Excuse you, but I happen to _love_ sunlight. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have seasonal depression. And if being pale and shy of sunlight means that I _am_ a vampire, then there’s no point in _turning_ me into a vampire, so your son still has no excuse for biting me. And no one ever asks for anything by looking a certain way, that’s not consensual.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right and I’m wrong. Blah blah blah.” Harry chuckled and pulled him close again, but quickly corrected himself before he kissed him and instead stepped away. Draco let out a tiny sigh of relief. He knew it was wrong of him, but he didn’t want to be as out as Harry was. This entire bisexuality thing was still very new for him, and despite recent progress, a lot of people still had the attitude _be gay all you like just as long as I don’t have to see it_. He didn’t think his in-laws were like that, but he felt no desire to test that theory.

“It’s not my fault half of the stuff you say is less than intelligent, Potter,” Draco shot back, carefully avoiding the words _idiot, arsehole_ and _shit_. It became a reflex after being a parent for a few years. “And by saying ‘half’ I’m being generous.”

“Ha bloody ha, Malfoy,” Harry replied. He still hadn’t mastered the craft of creative non-swear word use. “Just because you-”

“ _Stop it! Let me go_!” All background noise washed away when the distressed call of his son reached Draco’s ears. Without uttering a single word to Harry, Draco turned around and made his way to the Burrow’s kitchen as fast as he could. There was crying coming from it too when he finally reached it.

“Scorpius!”

“Daddy!” Scorpius cried between sobs. An irritated Molly Weasley stood next to him, a ladle in one hand and a deep frown on her face.

“Oh don’t act so silly, young man,” she said, making a move to pick Scorpius up again. Scorpius was having none of it though, and flinched away. From that moment forward everything went very fast.

“ _DON’T TOUCH MY SON_!” Draco bellowed with more force than intended, though he paid no heed to that. He was next to Scorpius in an instant, helping him stand up and lifting him off the floor when his son indicated that’s what he wanted. Draco put him on his hip and stepped away from Molly. “You stay away from my son if you’re too dumb to listen to him. No means no.”

“Draco!” Harry gasped from the kitchen entrance, but Molly was even quicker to anger at his words.

“How dare you call me dumb in my own home!” Molly raised the ladle at him and Scorpius flinched again, his eyes full of fear. It might be the wrong conclusion, but something told him that Scorpius wasn’t just scared of the look of the ladle, but of the _feel_ of it. Anger burned inside his chest as he took another step back. “I’ve raised more children than you can count.”

“Draco, she meant well for fucks sake!” Harry swore as he came to stand next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Leave it alone!”

Draco ignored him and glared at Molly, although he did shrug off Harry’s arm. “That was a very long time ago,” he hissed. “You clearly lost your touch with your age given that my son is crying now!”

“I am not old!” Molly yelled back at him, looking two ticks away from being just as angry as when she’d murdered his aunt. But Draco could face that with ease if it was to protect his child. The extra adrenaline in his system didn’t help to calm him down, though. “And he said nothing until he suddenly jumped out of my arms!”

Draco’s face grew even harder, and his eyes and voice were now icy cold. “Body language is also a thing.”

Molly took a step closer, fuming as she kept swaying with her ladle. “And so is raising picky spoiled brats!”

“ _I am not raising my son to be the same mistake I was_.” Draco hissed, the pain of her words and fear that they were true burning in his chest. It was time to leave. He would leave the Burrow at the very least, and the life of this woman if it came to it. He would never allow his son to be among people who treated him like he was his father. They could spit on him for his many mistakes, but Scorpius deserved better than that.

Draco pushed past a gaping Harry and the stunned Weasley clan in the hallway and was swallowed by the floo before anyone could utter a single word.

* * *

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he uttered softly, for what was probably the first time in years. The floo had brought him back to Harry’s house. The house he basically lived in now, but he thoroughly doubted he’d still be welcome there after the scene at the Burrow. Not that he regretted his words. Not yet, anyway.

“I’m sorry daddy,” Scorpius murmured, a heartbreaking quiver in his voice. The little guy was trying to distance himself from Draco, which was difficult as Draco was still carrying him. He would have put him down, but Scorpius couldn’t floo by himself yet and he had to leave this place before Harry came barging in. Scorpius had heard more than enough yelling for one day.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Your boundaries are your boundaries and no one is allowed to cross them if you don’t want them to,” Draco shushed, hoisting Scorpius up a little higher with one hand while grabbing some floo powder with the other. His son looked confused at that, but Draco explained before he could ask any questions. “We’re going to visit Grandma for a bit, does that sound like a good plan?”

Scorpius nodded, more because Draco’s tone of voice didn’t really allow for an argument. Draco knew that was the case and he hated it when his voice got like that. It was necessary now though. Who knew how angry and close on their tail Harry would be. So Draco stepped in the floo once more, and left Harry’s place.

His mother was more than a little surprised to see him, but she asked no questions when she saw the look on Draco’s face. It was one of her many great qualities, to know when to act instead of talk. Together they quickly managed to temporarily distract Scorpius with cake and a couple of nifty house elf magic tricks so Draco could have a moment for himself before talking to his son about the incident.

He really needed it, if only to take some calming draught so his hands would stop shaking. His mother strode into the room just after he’d swallowed the last drops.

“It’s going to be alright, Draco,” she said in that soft, calming voice only mothers seemed to have. Astoria’d had it too for the few short years she got to enjoy Scorpius before she passed away. “It’s not as bad as you think it is. The war is over. We still have problems, but we won’t get hurt like that again. We won’t die.”

Draco thought it was that voice in combination with his mother’s firm back rubs that stopped his hands from shaking in the end, and not the calming draught. He briefly allowed himself to melt into his mother’s arms and let out a few sobs. “You said that when Astoria fell ill. When Scorpius…”

“I know, Draco. I know. I miss her too.” His mother pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “But you didn’t lose Scorpius. And whatever just happened, I’m sure you’re making it far worse in your head. You’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.”

Draco sniffed but forced a smile onto his lips. He didn’t fully agree with his mother. His life _was_ dramatic, he didn’t play pretend. But she was trying to calm him, and that alone was help enough. Plus, he shouldn’t be thinking about himself at all now. He had a son to worry about. “Thank you, Mother.”

“Don’t mention it, son,” his mother replied, a tiny cheeky smile on her lips. “Now let’s go and eat some cake. You look-,”

“Oh, please don’t tell me I look skinny.” Draco rolled his eyes as he and his mother began to exit the bathroom. “It’s all people say about me these days.”

“Maybe because I’m right.” His mother gave him a pointed look. “Hold on, let me rephrase that. I'm your mother. I'm always right”

“Yes, Mother.” Draco sighed, happy that in all the turmoil at least he could always count on having his mother at his side. “I’ll eat my cake.”

* * *

 

Scorpius was a bit drowsy from the cake and the excitement from before, but Draco didn’t want to put off talking about the fight any longer. He knew himself, he would chicken out of it if he waited any longer. And as his own childhood had been full of unexplained fights between adults, he knew how frustrating that was. Plus, he needed to make sure Scorpius wasn’t blaming himself for anything.

“Scorpius?” Draco asked. He sat on the floor next to the couch his son was on. That way he wasn’t towering over him. “Can you tell me what happened before you asked Mrs Weasley to let you go? I promise I’m not angry, I’m just curious.”

Scorpius seemed to think about that for a moment, before biting his lip and staring at his knees. “She was holding me while she was making tea. I didn’t like that. And then she started holding me closer and I tried to get away but I couldn’t remember my words and then I saw the white masks again and…”

Scorp’s bottom lip trembled, and Draco quickly handed his son his favourite stuffed niffler to hold on to. He was so proud of his son for telling him all this, for speaking the truth even though that same truth terrified him.

“Being held down by a stranger reminded you of the hospital,” Draco filled in, and his heart hurt when his son nodded. Astoria had gone in and out of hospital the last year of her life as her blood curse began to manifest itself. Draco and Scorpius had followed her every step of the way. Draco hadn’t been sure about letting a child spend so much time in hospital, but Scorpius simply refused to be anywhere but with his mum. From birth, he’d always clung more to Astoria than him, as if sensing that they wouldn’t have long together. The first few nights after Astoria passed away Draco had been forced to medicate his son into sleep, because he wouldn’t stop crying or asking for his mum.

That had stopped after the funeral. Draco knew Scorpius didn’t fully understand what had happened to his mother, but by then he’d realised that asking for her wouldn’t bring her back. After that, they both grieved more silently, spending hours together in the sun on Astoria’s favourite garden bench, with Scorpius never leaving Draco’s lap. Those had been the saddest, yet somehow also the most blissfully happy days of Draco’s life. And Merlin knew he’d needed them, given what came after.

Despite the Healer’s reassurance that it hadn’t been passed on, Scorpius fell ill, and was diagnosed with the very same blood curse that had killed Draco’s wife only hours after the first symptoms. They had discovered it much sooner than they had with Astoria, but there was still no telling if any form of medication would work. Everything out there was still experimental, and many of the Healers who treated his son saw him more like a guinea pig than an actual human being, handling him much rougher than any three year old should ever be handled.

Draco hadn’t known that at first, but once he caught on there was nothing he could do except beg the Healers to be gentle. His last name didn’t help grant his wishes, but refusing Scorpius his treatment would mean the death of his only son. There was nothing he could do but stand by and watch.

But in the end, all the Healers and experts and potion masters had managed to heal Scorpius with the aid of his son’s powerful, unharnessed natural magic. Finally Draco could take his son home, only to find he was a shadow of his previous self. Scorpius had nightmares, he’d gotten touch shy, he hated strangers so much that just seeing one at the other end of the garden sometimes made him burst into tears.

Both he and his mother attended several classes on therapy for kids in addition to their own private therapy, doing everything they could to help Scorpius recover. And it worked, in part. Scorpius got over his nightmares, though he still slept in Draco’s or his gran’s bed. He became more relaxed around strangers again, as long as they were kind, introduced themselves, and never raised their voice. And when he met the Potter kids, he’d started to have fun again. Or at least, he did the second time he met them. The first time James had been way too over enthusiastic and Scorpius had ended up yelling at James before hiding behind the couch.

Albus had joined him back there though, and coaxed him out as Lily pounced on James to distract him. All in all, the Potter kids had been nothing short of a blessing, teaching Scorpius how to be a kid again while Harry taught Draco how to relax and smile for more than two seconds. At first by putting his fingers on the corners of Draco’s mouth and pushing them up, and later with dumb inside jokes and soft kisses.

Draco’s smile had something nostalgic as he thought of that, before he shook his head and turned back to the present. “You did good by telling her to let you go.”

“But you got angry,” Scorpius said, sounding confused. “How can doing good things make you angry?”

“I got angry because Mrs Weasley didn’t listen. She didn’t take you seriously. And that wasn’t your fault, it was hers,” Draco explained, trying to sound reassuring. “So please never stop asking people to let you go when you want them to. Scream and kick if you need to. No one is allowed to touch you when you don’t want them to, alright?”

“Not even you?”

Draco shook his head. “Not even me.”

That seemed to comfort Scorpius because he finally looked away from his knees. There was a bit of cake stuck to the corner of his mouth, and Draco almost reached out to brush it off until thinking the better of it. “There’s some cake stuck there,” he said instead, indicating the spot on his own face.

“Oh.” Scorpius brushed it off. “So you’re not angry with me?”

Draco shook his head with a smile. “No Scorpius, I’m not angry with you.”

Scorpius frowned. “Is Mrs Weasley angry with me?”

“I don’t know, Scorp.” Draco sighed, tension knotting up his stomach. “She shouldn’t be, though, if she is. You did nothing wrong. She might be angry with me though.”

“I’m sorry.” The words were spoken in such a soft whisper Draco almost didn’t catch them. Scorpius was looking at his knees again. “I shouldn’t have yelled at her. I know I should act normal, but sometimes I can’t help it.”

“Scorpius.” Scorpius flinched at the harsh tone in Draco’s voice, so Draco cursed himself and tried again. The harshness hadn’t been aimed at his son at all, which meant he should keep it well away from him. “Scorpius, can you look at me?”

Scorpius didn’t respond for a very long time, but Draco waited patiently until he was willing to look up.

“Scorpius, I never want you to act like you are _normal_. I want you to act like _you_. Be you. If you don’t want to be held then people shouldn’t do that. If you are scared of the dark, then we’ll turn on a light. And if you want to be able to sleep in the dark but can’t, then I will help you learn that. But I don’t want you to sleep in the dark and be terrified just because you think it is normal to sleep with the lights out. Everyone has their own normal, and unless there’s something wrong with your normal that’s perfectly alright and it should be respected. Okay?”

“How do I know if there’s something wrong with my normal?”

“You ask me. Or you ask your grandmother, and then we’ll talk about it. But please don’t put on a mask and pretend you’re alright when you’re not. You’re allowed to say no. You’re allowed to not be alright. Do you understand that?”

“I think I do.”

“Good.” Draco smiled, and Scorpius smiled back. “Now, do you want to look at the orchids with your gran? The ones in greenhouse five are just coming into bloom now.”

“Yes!” Scorp’s face lit up with excitement and he jumped off the couch, happy to leave the heavy conversation behind. Draco was relieved to see him bounce up like that. He would hate for his son to have a setback again. “Will I see you at dinner?”

“I’ll bring dinner to the greenhouses, how does that sound?”

“Great!” And with that, Scorpius ran off to his gran.

It took Draco nearly half an hour get to his feet after Scorpius had left. His son might have bounced back from the argument, but Draco wasn’t that flexible anymore. Maybe he never had been. His own words kept going in circles inside his own head. _I am not raising my son to be the same mistake I was._

But had he been speaking the truth?

Of course he knew Scorpius wasn’t the brat he himself used to be, but he still got spoiled, he was still equally well-mannered and all things Muggle-made him uncomfortable so Draco didn’t expose him to them. Now, that wasn’t the same as teaching him blood purity, but being a Malfoy, people would always have their prejudice ready to dish out to him. If the public and even the Weasleys kept seeing him as a smaller version of Draco, and with that a smaller version of what Lucius had been, wouldn’t Scorpius be pushed into the same mould as Draco had been? If he didn’t actively teach him about equality and Muggles, wouldn’t he automatically turn into a blood supremacist just because other people saw him like that? Draco knew like no other how easy it was to turn into the person people expected you to be.

But Scorpius had already lost his mother, plus he had his hospital trauma and he was only five years old. It wouldn’t be fair to teach him such heavy things already. On the other hand, in a little under a month he’d turn six, and Draco couldn’t let it wait until he was going off to Hogwarts…

With a sigh he let himself fall into one of the many guest beds close to the small drawing room where he’d had his chat with Scorpius. He lacked the energy to walk much further. It was so difficult, being a parent. Especially being a single parent. There were so many choices to be made each day and his track record for making the right one wasn’t exactly promising. Not a day went by when he didn’t miss Astoria. And of course he had his own mother, and he had Harry, though…

Did he? Did he still have Harry? They’d been dating for a little over a year now, though it felt much longer because they’d gotten so close so fast. But he had just stormed out on him and his family after insulting someone who was basically his mother. He doubted Harry would take kindly to that. Plus, he knew that Harry wanted to be a lot more ‘out’ than him. They’d had some arguments about that in the past month.

Maybe this would be the last straw for him. Which would mean that Scorpius couldn’t play with Harry’s kids anymore, which would leave the kid heartbroken, probably angry with his dad for making his life even more shit.

And what the hell was he doing with Scorp’s upbringing anyway? Attaching his name to a child was a cruel act no one deserved. He should have accepted the offer of the Greengrass family to raise Scorpius. It would have been the better choice. But that would mean giving up on his only son, giving up on the last piece of Astoria that he had. He hadn’t wanted that. _Still_ didn’t want it. He wanted Scorpius all for himself, building a family with him and his mother that _did_ work, that _was_ loving in a way his own childhood had never been. But wasn’t he projecting himself on Scorp in the same harmful way Lucius had done with him if he did that? Was he repeating his father’s mistakes _again_?

“Your mother told me where you were.” Draco was so far gone in his panic attack he didn’t even hear Harry’s words, nor did he notice that he had climbed onto the bed. “Oh Draco, don’t do this to yourself.”

Draco hadn’t had many panic attacks when Harry was there. Usually the other man calmed him down before things got that far. Still, it had happened a few times and Harry hadn’t forgotten about how to deal with them. He removed the suffocating blankets and pulled Draco up, letting him rest sideways on his chest while Harry began to rub his back. No doubt a tip he’d gotten from his mother.

“Breathe for me, okay? Here, hold my hand, squeeze it as hard as you can and _breathe_. That’s it. In and out. In and out. I’m not mad at you, it’s alright. You’re not a horrible parent, or a horrible person. Breathe in, and breathe out. I love you, Scorpius loves you, it’s okay.”

Harry kept rambling on with his nonsense until Draco finally got to a place where he could relax. As soon as that happened, he collapsed against Harry and stayed there with his head on his chest until he had fully caught his breath again. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I know I should stop myself when I’m circle-thinking.”

“Don’t apologise for having panic attacks, you idiot.” Harry lightly punched him in the ribs, before kissing the top of his head. “Just be glad Ginny made me drop off the kids at Andromeda’s place, because she knew Andy would keep me hostage with tea until I calmed down. I might have still been mad at you if that hadn’t happened.”

Draco sighed, guilt laying heavy on his chest. “I’m sorry for storming out. And for yelling at Mrs Weasley.”

“You protected your son. I might have done worse in your position.” Harry pushed a stray strand of hair out of his face, before quietly rubbing circles on his back again. They sat like that in the quiet of the guest bedroom for a few minutes before Harry spoke again.

“Something else happened before I went to Andy with the kids.”

“It did?”

Harry nodded. “I talked to Molly about what happened. Explained a bit of your situation and all that. And maybe I cornered her, maybe she was still angry, I don’t know, but she said it was no excuse. Children had to listen to their parents and that’s that. Even if the parent isn’t actually their parent but just a grown up. It’s what kids are supposed to do.”

Draco froze for a moment as Harry went silent. He feared for what was about to come. Did Harry agree with what Mrs Weasley had said? Because if so, Draco didn’t think he could continue seeing him. He’d experienced firsthand what a terrible idea it was to follow one’s parents or any adult blindly. A child was still a person, and the boundaries of any person were sacred in his eyes.

“I fought with her worse than you did.” Harry spoke softly after a few minutes. “I called her an old-fashioned tart. Might have even said something about my aunt and uncle compared to her, but I don’t really remember. I hurt her with what I said, I know that much. But she hurt my family first and I won’t stand for that. And I’m not going back to the Burrow until she apologises.”

Draco finally sat up when he heard that. He looked down at the man in his bed with wonder. Looked at his badly trimmed beard, his lively green eyes, the serious expression on his face, _felt_ the strength of his magic around him like a comforting blanket, the way he always did. It was still beyond his comprehension to believe that this man wanted _him_ , Draco Malfoy, depressed widower and father of a troubled five-year-old, to be his boyfriend. But Harry had said something else. Something more.

“You think of us as family?”

“Yes.” There was no doubt or hesitation in Harry’s response. “Is that okay for you?”

“It’s…” Draco was at a loss for words. “It’s-, it’s wonderful,” he stuttered eventually, as he pulled Harry into a giant bear hug. “I love you.”

He could tell Harry was grinning in the crook of his neck when he felt his beard hairs move across his skin. It was an amazing feeling. And though it didn’t fix everything, knowing that he still had Harry made everything that much less difficult to bear.

Harry’s grip on him tightened. “I love you too.”

* * *

 

They ended up sharing a rare, quiet meal with just the four of them in the greenhouse. Draco could really use the calm atmosphere of the place, as the jitters of his panic attack still hadn’t fully left. Harry spent the first part of the meal reassuring Scorpius that he wasn’t mad at him, and the other part quietly talking to Draco’s mother. Draco didn’t really focus on what they were talking about, he was quite absorbed with watching Scorpius slowly lose the battle against sleep.

When his son nearly fell face first into his dessert, Draco carefully suggested an early night.

“Where are we sleeping then, Daddy?” Scorpius asked between two yawns. “Here, or in the other house?”

Draco didn’t know what to say to that. He’d slept at Harry’s place for nearly two months now, but today he didn’t quite feel like going there. Luckily, his mother answered for him.

“If I may be so free to offer, I’ve finished remodeling the south wing and I would like to know exactly how comfortable the beds are.” His mother smiled at him as Draco rolled his eyes. Sometimes she was blatantly obvious in her ways, which Draco suspected was a way to save mental energy as she knew no one would ever say no to her anyway. “They’re big enough for three, I think.”

“We’re sleeping as a family?” Scorpius asked, directing his hopeful eyes first at Draco and then at Harry. On her good days, Astoria had insisted they would all sleep together in the same bed so she wouldn’t have to miss anyone. It made Draco both sad and happy that sleeping in the same bed as Harry now meant the same to his son.

“If your grandmother says so, then I guess we are.” Draco said carefully as he watched Harry. He could have dropped the care, because the most brilliant smile appeared on Harry’s face. So far they’d only slept with three in one bed after Scorpius had a nightmare, they’d never started out like that. But Harry was clearly just as excited about the idea as Scorpius was. “Alright, Scorp. Let’s get you into bed then.”

* * *

 

Scorpius was already almost asleep while Draco brushed his teeth for him, something he did the Muggle way because Scorp hated the charms, so he carried him from the bathroom to the bed. Once tucked in Draco proceeded to sing a French lullaby his mother had taught him once. He knew his son was already asleep and probably didn't hear him, but it was tradition so he went with it.

“You have a nice singing voice,” Harry whispered as he went to sit behind Draco and wrapped his arms around his chest. Draco put a gentle hand through the messy curls now resting on his shoulder. He loved this about them. That they could banter and bicker and argue all day but when they were both exhausted they just _melted_ into each other, being nothing if not soft and sappy together. “And you're an amazing father to him.”

“I try,” Draco whispered, sadness tugging at his soul as he watched his son. “It's not easy, being Draco Malfoy's son.”

“It's not easy being Draco Malfoy.” Harry slowly began to rub his arm, his hand spreading warmth to the tips of his fingers. _Crucio_ damage from the war meant Draco was often cold, but that was never an issue when Harry was there. “But you're doing a brilliant job, love. And I know for sure Scorpius couldn't wish for a better dad. He wouldn't want to. He adores you.”

“I fear that.” Draco looked at his knees, just like his son did when he was saying difficult things. “I don't want him to adore or follow me. I'm not exactly a good example to live up to.”

“Maybe not your younger self,” Harry agreed, “but you aren't him anymore, Draco. You changed. You are someone to be proud of now. Someone to admire.”

“I'm sorry.” Draco would have never guessed it but he turned into an apologetic Hufflepuff when he felt bad about himself. Especially when he was also tired to boot. “I shouldn't be talking about myself this much. And I shouldn't make you miss your kids. You have them to take care of already, I shouldn't add to that.”

Harry didn't immediately reply to that. At least not with words. First he pulled Draco into an even fiercer hug, before explaining, “I never see you open up to anyone. You just swallow everything down and put your son before everything else. And that's hard, I know that because I do it too, but you have so much more to swallow. I had an amicable divorce, you lost your wife. James is a bit too excited sometimes, Scorpius lived in the hospital for nearly a year. You just take it all in your stride and just seeing that makes me want to do even better. And seeing you open up like this and let some stuff out, that just makes me love you more. Don't apologise for that.”

Draco looked sideways and raised an eyebrow, putting on his sarcastic Malfoy Mask to hide his emotions. “You had too much wine during dinner, didn't you?”

“Yes, I definitely had too much wine during dinner,” Harry answered in the exact same tone of voice as his rant. “But that doesn't mean that I love or admire you any less.”

“You’re a silly man.” Draco shook his head, but his words were spoken with much fondness. He tried to say something else then, but was interrupted by his own yawn.

Harry chuckled behind him.

“Is the old man tired?”

“Oh, shut your trap, Harry.” Draco rolled his eyes. “But thanks. It’s good to know I don’t bother you too much with my rants.”

“You don’t bother me with your rants. In fact I love your rants, because if you rant then I can do the same. Ginny hated it when I did that. The brooding, the explosions of frustration, the fixation on certain things, she refused to put up with them, and rightfully so. And I do still try to stop doing that, but when it does happen you mind them an awful lot less. I’m nothing if not grateful for that.”

“You’re so intense when you fixate on something.” Draco smiled at the memory of the many times he’d seen that happen. “I like that.”

“Which is why we are a better fit than me and Ginny ever were.”

Draco snorted. “I suppose that’s true.”

“I actually quite fancy going to sleep now,” Harry announced after falling backwards onto the bed. “This is comfy.”

“Harry, it’s barely eight o’clock.” Draco looked at the disaster he called his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. “Since when did you turn into Lily?”

Harry chuckled at the mention of his youngest daughter. If Lily wasn’t following James around, she was sleeping someplace that wasn’t her own bed. Any place that was warm really, like Harry’s bed just after he left it, the door mat next to the Muggle radiator, that one spot behind the couch with a warm water pipe running under it, or of course the cabinet under the kitchen sink where they’d put the boiler. She was so often referred to as a cat that they sometimes called her kitty instead of Lily.

“I think Lily unlocked the secret to a good life at a very early age,” Harry murmured, closing his eyes and throwing his glasses in the general direction of Draco. He refused to catch them, given that he wasn’t Harry’s house elf, but he did smile down at the man who looked seconds away from sleep. Harry was nothing if not extraordinary. “Spending all day sleeping in warm, cozy places or following around a tiny cute idiot.”

Draco chuckled. “Did you just call your eldest son a tiny cute idiot?”

“Perhaps,” Harry said as he captured Draco’s wrist and pulled him on top of himself. “It’s true. He’s a cute, tiny, hyperactive idiot and I love him. That’s one of the reasons why I fought with Molly today.”

“It is?” Draco frowned. “I didn’t know you were arguing with her before this afternoon.”

“It wasn’t really an argument.” Harry said as he reluctantly sat up again, looking grumpy about needing to adult. “But Molly watches my kids a lot, and lately I’ve been getting the impression that she thinks they, or mostly James and Albus, act out because I don’t discipline them. Or not enough, at any rate.”

“And you don’t agree with her.”

“No.” Harry sat up and shook his head. He didn’t meet Draco’s eye anymore now, and his voice was suddenly quite a lot softer. “I know it’s still common practice in the magical community to cuff a kid’s ear and stuff like that, but I just won’t do that. It was hardly physical abuse, but my aunt and uncle weren’t exactly gentle with me as a kid and I never _ever_ want my kids to feel that way.”

“I know.” Draco nestled himself besides Harry and pulled him into a hug. The man was clearly upset, as he always was when talking about his childhood, and Draco wanted nothing more than to comfort him. It had been a strange feeling at first, because Astoria had rarely needed comfort and when she did it had been for entirely different reasons. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. He quite liked making Harry feel safe and loved when life got him down. “Hey, you don’t have to explain or defend yourself to me. I’m the one who asks before even holding Scorp’s hand, I would _never_ hit him. I know you wouldn’t do that, to anyone, a child or not.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Draco could be wrong, but he thought he heard a small smile in Harry’s voice. “I hit you during that quidditch match in fifth year.”

Draco laughed, caught by surprise by the sudden change of topic. “Yeah you did. Though you were nothing compared to Hermione. Sometimes I think I can still feel that hit on my face.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her to weave some sort of evil curse into that bitch slap so you’re not actually imagining things.” Harry snorted. “I’m glad I had to fight Voldemort, if I’d had to fight Hermione we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Draco shuddered alongside Harry at that idea. Though Draco couldn’t help but note that he’d much rather have Hermione living in his house compared to Lord Voldemort. He didn’t say that though. There were quite a lot of details about his sixth and seventh year which Harry didn’t know about, and he would like to keep it that way.

“So much has changed since then.” Harry sighed suddenly after a few minutes of silence. “ _We_ have changed so much since then.”

“It doesn’t feel like that sometimes.” Now it was Draco who refused to meet Harry’s eye. His voice was so much more vulnerable than he wanted it to be. “It’s like I’m holding my breath, pretending to be okay, pretending to be a better person until Scorpius can stand on his own and I can fall apart again.”

Harry was quiet. _Too_ quiet, though Draco didn’t notice, he was too lost in his own thoughts. He’d never said anything like this out loud before. Or at least not to anyone except his therapist. He thought his mother knew, but only because she read him so well.

For a moment they just sat there, both lost in thought as Scorpius’ slow breathing filled the room.

“You feel that too?” Harry’s question sounded so genuine Draco looked up, straight into tear filled green eyes. “Like you’re just trying to postpone the inevitable? Like you can never be fixed, you can just pretend you’re not broken?”

Draco nodded, and had his arms open for Harry to bury himself in before the man even leaned forward. They landed in tangles on the bed, nearly hitting Scorpius. Draco carefully shifted them onto safer territory, his parenting side shortly taking over as he transfigured their day clothes into pyjamas and pulled the covers over them. He’d gotten an expert at those spells, given that Astoria couldn’t change out of her clothes near the end. At least that skill had some use now.

“We’re messed up, aren’t we?” Harry asked as he nestled himself on Draco’s chest.

“Maybe a little,” Draco replied, which coaxed a laugh out of Harry. “But at least we’re both equally messed up. That helps.”

“It does.” Harry murmured, still just as far from sleep as Draco was. Their thoughts would be racing for quite some time to come, but processing things savely in each other’s arms meant sleep would come at some point, while nightmares would not. They never had nightmares together.

“Hey, Draco?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Harry.”

* * *

 

Draco wanted to freeze this moment in time and never stop sleeping. The bed was warm and soft and he had a Harry on one side and a Scorpius on the other. There wasn’t a single thing he could change to make his morning more perfect. Well, except for taking away the horrible prospect of needing to get out of bed and face the world later. He could do without that.

“You look happy.” Draco was startled by his mother’s voice and his eyes suddenly flew wide open. His mother stood in the doorway of the bedroom in a morning gown and a set of pyjamas, which Draco could swear were muggle. He was quite baffled.

“Mother! What are you doing here?” He was sure the last time his mother had visited him in bed when he wasn’t ill had been over two decades ago. It wasn’t done in pureblood circles. A single knock on the door, a request to be in a certain place at a certain time, and that was it. Gently waking someone up was for toddlers and lovers. Which reminded him, unexpected or not, he hadn’t exactly responded politely to his mother’s visit. “I mean, I appreciate it, and I hope you slept well, I just-”

“Oh hush, my love.” His mother chuckled as she interrupted him and strode forward into the room, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “I do hope we can move past some of the pureblood etiquette that has kept our family apart for so long. I think we’ve both found solid enough ground under our feet to let go of some of the rules.”

“Oh.” Draco had never really consciously thought about that. He and his mother had both worked very hard after the war to erase the blood purism from their thoughts, but normal, private etiquette had always stayed the same for them. “I suppose we can.”

“Good.”

“Can I still ask what brought you here?”

“I simply came to collect my grandchild,” his mother replied as she reached out to brush a lock of hair from Scorpius’ face. She then smiled, a light blush appearing on her cheeks. “I presumed you and Harry might want some alone time in bed.”

“Mother!” Draco exclaimed in shock, loud enough to wake up his son. The little guy looked around with sleepy, bleary eyes.

“Good morning, Scorpius.” Narcissa ignored his outcry and greeted her grandchild instead. “It’s snowing in our winter greenhouse. Would you like to pop on that new coat you got for Christmas and take a walk there together? We can have scones with jam and butter at the end as breakfast.”

Scorpius’s eyes sparked with joy at the prospect. “Yes please! Can Daddy and Harry come too?”

“They can join us for tea, later,” Narcissa replied. She held out her hand and Scorpius took it, eager to get out of bed. “That would be in two hours, plenty of time for a whole scala of activities.”

Draco groaned and buried himself under the duvet as his mother left the room with a wink, Scorpius following close behind. He couldn’t believe she’d just done that. His own mother! The most saintly, strong, serene woman in his life, his brick, his anchor, the one person he could always trust and rely on had just-! Just-!

Draco’s brain refused to even think it. It was too much to ask.

“Did your mother just tell us to have kinky sex?” Harry, the traitor, sounded far too awake and amused for someone who’d only just woken up. The fucker had probably listened in on everything, and spent a great deal of time before that looking through his eyelashes at Draco’s content expression.

“No,” Draco said resolutely as he turned his back on Harry and crawled deeper into the impossibly comfortable bed. “Now fuck off. I hate you.”

A terribly fake gasp came from Harry’s side of the bed, before the man burst out in giggles.

“Shut! Up! Harry!” Draco abruptly sat up, grabbed a pillow and began to beat Harry’s laughing form with it. “It’s! Not! Funny!” he said as he emphasised every word with a blow. “I’m traumatized for life! I will never have sex again now that she said that!”

“You know, we don’t have to have sex, Draco,” Harry said, way too gently for a man who’d just been attacked with a pillow. “I’m quite content to sleep for another hour or so. This bed really is terribly comfortable.”

“I don’t- You- What? You mean that?” Draco was at a loss when Harry simply nodded and made himself comfortable in bed. “But- but with the kids and- we almost _never_ have sex.”

Harry shrugged. “That doesn’t make me love you any less. And I think both of us care less for sex than the average person. Unless you really want to…?”

“No.” Draco shook his head. It had never played that big a part in any of his relationships. He and Pansy had just shared a bed for a few years. Theo had mostly needed a comforting hug which was often paired with kissing, but nothing else. Draco wasn’t even sure if he could call that a relationship; It had never gotten official. And Astoria was usually too tired for it, which he now knew had been the blood curse awakening.

The first night he met Harry after many years, the week after Scorpius had finally been let out of the hospital, they’d just talked. Laughed and cried and drank and talked until the landlord came to kick them out. During the many playdates with their kids, they’d drifted closer together until they couldn’t possibly call each other _just friends_ anymore. The first time they’d had sex had been after so many dates, both of them had stopped counting by that time. It had been marvellous, but what Draco cherished most about their first time was the quiet story telling afterwards. The sharing of dreams and memories felt more intimate than any sex ever had.

“Come here, Draco.” Harry beckoned and pulled him back down under the covers again. “You’re thinking too much again.”

“I’m not thinking too much,” Draco snapped, before catching himself and reigning in his temper. Not that he was angry, he was just a little overwhelmed. “I just… I never thought about that at all. I just never realised that I… that I don’t really care for it.”

However much that train of thought shocked Draco, it was of no news to Harry. Or at least he seemed completely unphased by it. “I guessed as much. I’m quite the same actually.”

“You are?” Draco’s eyes grew wide and when he turned his head to properly look at his man, it was all he could do not to melt. It wasn’t fair how Harry could turn him into a puddle with one single bloody glance, it just wasn’t. Though he wasn’t really glancing, he was looking with glee as he watched Draco realise what his words meant.

“It’s really fucking stupid how well we fit together you know?” he eventually said after he finally managed not to melt. “Because we fought for all those years and I still don’t want to like you but you’re making that bloody impossible, you stupid speccy idiot.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “Oh Merlin, don’t remind me. Or don’t remind Ron and Hermione, actually. _I don’t like Malfoy as a person, just as a parent. I only spoke for Malfoy’s trial because it was the right thing to do. I only invite Malfoy over because he has a cute kid, but he is still an arsehole. I hate his gorgeous hair, what parent has gorgeous hair? And those abs, does he work out? What parent has time for working out? Stupid pointy git.”_

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You really called me a stupid pointy git?”

“Maybe,” Harry replied with a deep blush that betrayed his honest answer. “Honestly, thinking back to it I’m surprised my friends didn’t hex me. I should thank them for that at some point.”

“You’re so mature, Potter.”

“Oh, so it’s back to Potter now, is it?”

“It is if you call me a _stupid pointy git_ ,” Draco pouted even as Harry pulled him closer and kissed his temple. “Also, this is really fucking stupid too.”

“What is?”

“This!” Draco gestured between them. “That you’re dead set on not liking me and I still want to insult you like the old days but I can’t because you’re annoyingly cute! That’s really fucking stupid, Potter.”

“I can get ugly,” Harry suggested half seriously. “I could inject botox, wear black lenses, remove my nose, maybe get a huge facial tattoo….”

“Don’t you dare!” Draco snapped, rolling them over until he was right on top of Harry, glaring down at his stupid happy face. “Don’t you dare Harry James Potter or I swear I will-, I will-”

Harry raised an almost arrogant eyebrow. “You’ll what? Stutter at me?”

“Oh I hate you.” Draco let go of Harry and went to pout on the other side of the bed. “You’re really fucking annoying, Potter.”

“And here I was thinking I was cute.” Harry snickered behind him. “Make up your mind, Malfoy.”

“Shut up, Potter,” Draco quipped, though his voice was so much softer than he wanted it to be. “I hate you.”

“You already said that.”

“Well it’s true.” Draco was fighting to keep the pout on his face now as Harry moved closer and tried to drag him back under the duvet. He really shouldn’t be behaving like this. He was thirty one years old, not three. Yet he was enjoying himself too much to call it quits. Normal parenting was stressful, but parenting a five year old on your own after losing his mother to a horrible curse was even worse. He was always worried and on edge and scared something might happen and _Merlin_ it was nice to let that all fall away as he childishly tried to annoy Harry.

“You really hate me?” Harry had stopped trying to drag him back to bed, and Draco really couldn’t be sure if the quiver in his voice was faked or not. Of course, that was why he had to be responsible all the time now. He had people to look after, a reputation to built up, a potions business to run.

“No of course I don’t hate you, you absolute twat.” Draco turned around and pulled Harry into a hug before he could properly see his face. If Harry were to actually look crestfallen, Draco didn’t think he could cope with the hurt and guilt he’d feel from that. “I never hated you. I wanted to for a very long time, so _so_ badly, but it never worked. You’re too nice.”

“I’m not too nice,” Harry mumbled into his shoulder.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not. I nag Ron and Hermione.”

“Which is what friends are for.”

“I get too angry.”

“ _Used_ to get too angry, and no one is perfect, Harry.”

Harry’s voice was softer than a whisper when he spoke again. “I pushed Ginny away.”

“You got together and you grew and then you didn’t fit anymore,” Draco replied to that even as he processed the shock that Harry blamed himself for the divorce. He’d never said that before, and Draco knew for a fact that Ginny didn’t think about it like that. “And now you have three happy kids and a great friend instead of tension and kids who have no idea what love looks like. Don’t beat yourself up about things that aren’t your fault. No one cheated, the fights were not too bad, your divorce is amicable, and you and Ginny still love each other to bits. That would have never happened if she’d been in a relationship with an arsehole, Harry. Give yourself some credit.”

“But what if I keep growing away from people?” Harry lifted his head and looked Draco straight in the eye. The insecurity behind those green eyes was painful to watch, but Draco refused to look away. He didn’t want to send the wrong message. “What if I grow away from you?”

“Harry, I’ve been drawn to you since that very first time I saw you in Madam Malkin’s getting your robes fitted. That’s twenty years ago now and in all those years it would have been best for me to hate you, or leave you alone at the very least, and I’ve never been able to do that. I’ve always been drawn to you, I really doubt that will ever change. Weeds are hard to kill.”

“True.” Harry chuckled despite his watery eyes. “Maybe Neville can help me.”

“Neville couldn’t kill me, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, least of all a weed. _Weeds are just plants in the wrong place,_ as he always says.” Draco smiled at the thought, before growing serious. “Would you kill me?”

“No of course not you silly.” Harry sniffed before kissing him square on the lips. “But I have no idea how to care for weeds, so I thought maybe he could help with that.”

Draco did _not_ melt when he heard those words, and he certainly didn’t get a dopey smile on his face. “Just don’t throw them out. That’s all there is to it.”

“Okay.” Harry sniffed again and finally managed to pull Draco properly under the covers again. “I promise I won’t throw you out, Draco Malfoy.”

“Much appreciated, Harry Potter.”

“Can we sleep now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

* * *

 

“Daddyyyy!” Scorpius ran towards his father as soon as he spotted him, which more than made up for the horrible task of having to get out of bed. He could die a happy man if he never had to leave that bed again. “Daddy, Daddy, the winter orchid is in bloom! You have to see! It gives off light!”

Draco let himself get dragged away by his son after a quick smile in Harry’s direction. It turned out that the orchid really was worth all the excitement. The light blue and white petals emitted a soft, almost hypnotic glow. Draco knew that was their purpose; passing animals and humans would stop in their tracks to look, and most never left after that. It was how the orchid got its food.

This one was still in its early stages, only powerful enough to kill small rodents and birds. Still, Draco led Scorpius to the tea and scones when he got a little too fascinated by the flower. It was always best not to take risks.

“Did you have a good lie-in, Draco?” His mother asked as soon as he sat down. Despite the fact that they hadn’t done anything, the question coloured his cheeks pink. He loved his mother to bits but sometimes he wished she were a little less… good at everything. She’d guided her family through two wars on the wrong side and came out alive and more sane than anyone Draco knew, she was in full control of both her body and emotions, and she was insanely smart. Plus, he was quite sure she was a more powerful legilimens than the Dark Lord had ever been, though she’d never admit to that.

“Yes, Mother. We did,” he answered as politely as possible. His mother could smell blood ten miles away, and he didn’t want to let her in on the nature of his lie-in. Hopefully she would assume they did what she implied they should do. It was odd to want his mother to think he’d had sex, but the conversation from that morning with Harry had left him so shaken that he really wasn’t ready yet to face a discussion about it with his mother. “Pass me the jam, will you?”

“Of course, love.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Harry watch the exchange with fascination. The man had never understood Draco’s relationship with his mother, but he liked to look at it anyway. _It’s just nice to see someone love you as much as I love you_ , he’d explained a few weeks ago. Draco had promptly and quite unexpectedly started crying at that, which resulted in his son, Harry, and all the Potter kids burying him under a huge group hug.

It was one of his most treasured memories.

“Uhm, I, eh, I really like this tea, Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry stammered when they came to the end of their breakfast. Scorpius had climbed in Draco’s lap at some point and while Draco attempted to make Dutch braids in his son’s hair, his mother had taken to looking at Harry.

She did that sometimes, sizing people up with a neutral but intense gaze. It was a perfect method to get people to comply to her will. Anything to make that stare turn into a gentle smile or approving nod. In Harry’s case it was a gentle but firm warning that he better have Draco’s back or he’d get a lot more than just a disapproving stare. Draco always thought that was a bit overbearing, but he hadn’t really noticed his mother doing it much so he hadn’t stopped her either.

“Could I maybe have the name of the tea? The flavour, I mean,” Harry spluttered. “I-, eh, I was actually meant to go shopping yesterday evening, my pantry is empty and the kids are coming to stay with me for a week this afternoon.”

“That’s quite convenient, actually.” Draco turned his gaze to Harry, giving him a good excuse to stop looking at his mum. He chuckled when Harry silently sighed with relief. “My ingredients order came in at the apothecary two days ago. I’ll join you and pick that right up.”

Harry flashed him a smile. “Thanks, that would be great.”

“I’ll ask Mippy to send some tea over to your home, Harry.” Draco’s mother rose from her chair and walked around the table. She hugged Harry once he got up. A proper, warm, non-pureblood hug which she’d developed a knack for since the end of the war. Draco and Scorpius immediately joined in line to get one too. There was nothing quite like the hug of a mother. “Have a good shopping trip, boys.”

“Thank you Mrs. Malfoy.” Harry nodded politely.

“It’s Narcissa, Harry.” Draco’s mother replied sternly, even though everyone knew it was of no use. Draco suspected Harry refused to call his mum by her first name because it was something reserved for official family-in-law. He knew from Hermione that Harry had only started calling Mrs Weasley Molly after his marriage to Ginny, and that he’d stopped calling her that for a little while after the divorce until Mrs Weasley had gotten mad at him for it. Maybe one day Harry would address her as his mother wished, but they both knew their relationship was too young for that.

“Can I stay with Grandma, Dad?” Scorpius asked as they went to take their leave. Draco’s son had never been a great fan of crowds, and as it was Saturday, Diagon Alley would be packed.

“You’ll have to ask your grandmother, Scorpius. If she’s okay with it, then so am I.”

Of course Narcissa was happy to take him, as she made clear while Draco knelt down to give the finishing touches to Scorpius’ braids. It made him look a bit like a girl, but Draco had honestly never cared about that. His father’s rules about being a ‘good man’ were probably just as much bullshit as his rules about being a proper pureblood.

Despite the events from the previous day, Draco felt quite happy once he stepped into the floo to the leaky. Harry followed right behind him but due to the crowd and the many things they needed to get before apparating to a Muggle shop for the rest of their purchasing, they decided to split up and meet again in an hour. Draco was just about to enter the apothecary when someone grabbed his arm.

“Malfoy.” It was Ginny Weasley. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”

“If you want me to apologise, I won’t,” Draco snapped, a bit more sharply than intended. People could make jokes about how he’d been a shit Death Eater who was all bark and no bite, but he _would_ kill for his son if it came to it. “Your mother should have-”

“I know, Malfoy. Merlin, relax.” Ginny let go of his arm and rolled her eyes. “You seem to forget I was raised by her. The little girl she’d always wanted after six sons. She loved us all to bits, I won’t deny it, but all my clothing was pink until I started putting up daily fights about it. She wouldn’t let me fly with my brothers because Quidditch wasn’t meant for women. I love my mother, but that doesn’t mean I deny her having any flaws. I just wanted to let you know I’m on your side.”

“You- oh.” Draco had _not_ seen that coming. Though she’d never been openly hostile or unsupportive, Draco had always had the idea that she wasn’t his greatest fan, either because he was dating her ex or because of his past. This went against all those ideas though. “Thank you, I-, I didn’t like how it went down yesterday, but I felt like I had to take a firm stand.”

“Which is true,” Ginny immediately agreed. “Don’t say this to Harry, but when he and I were separating, my mum watched the kids while we discussed the divorce details. James got kind of fussy in that time, refused to go to bed, threw his food. You know, his usual temper tantrums only a tad worse. Harry’s brilliant at talking him out of it but I got to the Burrow once to pick up the kids and I saw my mum twist James’ ear instead of talk like we said she should do.”

Draco’s eyes went wide. Harry would be _livid_ if he ever heard that. His aunt and uncle had never been excessive but definitely weren’t shy about corporal punishments, and something like this happening to his kids would not fly with him.

“Yeah, exactly that.” Ginny nodded when she saw his response. “I didn’t tell him because my mother wouldn’t even dare to think of doing that again after the argument we had about it. I didn’t speak with her for three whole weeks but she calmed down eventually and admitted she’d been in the wrong. Or rather, that she should have respected our wishes, but I don’t think she understands what’s wrong with punishing a child like that. I don’t think she wants to understand, because it would mean she has to admit to having made mistakes while raising us. My mum is too proud for that. Your son doesn’t deserve to fall victim of that pride.”

“No he doesn’t.” Draco sighed and tried to look at anything other than Ginny’s fiery eyes. “There are a lot of things in this world Scorpius doesn’t deserve but gets anyway.”

“But he did get you as a father, and that makes up for a lot of it.” Ginny reached out for him again, forcing him to look up. Or down actually, as the redhead was quite a lot shorter than he was. Somehow she still made it feel like looking up. “You did the right thing, with my mum. And you’re doing the right thing with raising Scorpius. Harry and I learn from you every day, and so do our kids. He picked a good one with you.”

“I-,” Draco stammered, clueless about what to say. “I-,”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll stop teasing you at every opportunity I get mind you,” Ginny added sharply, a joyful twinkle in her eyes. “And I don’t agree with everything you do. But for the big stuff, for being a parent, you’re doing alright.”

And after those last words, Ginny turned around and continued on her way, leaving a quite baffled Draco in her wake.

* * *

 

“When are you planning to apologise to my mother?” Of course Draco was going to run into Percy at a stationery store. Where else would he meet the most stuck up member of the family? “She’s waiting for it you know. You insulted her, after everything she’s done for you and your son.”

“Oh, you mean, after she invited me over twice and gifted me with a cup of tea? You think that’s reason enough to just let her walk all over my son’s personal boundaries without any repercussions?” He was quite shocked by the cold edge in his voice. Usually he left the old pureblood Malfoy far away in the past were it belonged, but something about the demanding tone of Percy’s voice brought it back. “My son was uncomfortable, she didn’t listen, and then when he got upset she got angry at him, as if being a child means you have no say in how you are treated. I very much disagree with that rhetoric and I will not compromise my views on that, so no, I will not apologise, and if she doesn’t want to either then that’s her fault for causing a rift in the family and not mine.”

“How _dare_ you!” Percy spat. Draco was strangely reminded of his late father when he got offended as he watched Percy’s expression grow harsh. “Your child was misbehaving and instead of apologising, you say it was my mother’s fault? And you’re insulting her hospitality by saying she just offered a cup of tea? I can list hundreds of people who would never let the likes of you into their house but she _welcomed you like you did nothing wrong_. No wonder your son is acting like a spoilt little brat when his father never changed a hair.”

“Giving consent before being touched is _not_ a privilege, it’s a right. It does _not_ mean my child is spoilt.” Draco was doing all of his calming exercises at the same time in the hope of stopping himself from decking Percy right in his outraged face. It was so bloody tempting, with those stupid glasses almost _begging_ to be broken. But he knew he shouldn’t. Punching Percy would only give the man a reason to call him a hypocrite. After all, what was punching if not a very non-consensual touch? “And people can treat me however they bloody like. But as soon as my son is in danger I don’t care who’s doing the hurting and how much of a favour they’ve done me by not hexing me in the face. My son is the most important person in my life and I will not allow him to get hurt. If that means taking him away from your mother then so be it.”

“ _My mother is not dangerous_!” Percy bellowed so loudly Draco wouldn’t be surprised if they’d get kicked out of the shop soon. He was getting redder in the face than Ron did when people talked about their sex lives within earshot. “She’s amazing and would be the best mother your son could wish for. You’re really blind if you…”

Percy’s voice became white noise somewhere in the back of his mind as his words began to sink in. Scorpius would never wish for Mrs Weasley to be his mother. He would wish for Astoria, for his actual mother. Draco did the same. Not a day went by when he didn’t wish that blood curse had never been cast. But wishes didn’t come true. Draco had seen enough shit in life to know that.

“Enough.” He cut Percy off mid-rant. Possibly with an accidental silencing charm because his magic was itching under his skin, ready to be released. Or maybe just because in that moment his voice held more authority than the Minister of Magic and Minerva McGonagall put together. “Stop disrespecting my family by airing out your ignorant short-sighted opinions. They are not welcome. Now leave me alone.”

He brushed passed the baffled Weasley without granting him a single glance and apparated away in the middle of the store despite the fact that he’d get a fine for that. It took everything he had not to plant his fist or a nasty hex in Percy’s face and doing that would get him far worse than a fine.

Once he landed in Harry’s house, the only place he knew no one would bother him, he immediately had to redirect his energy to not breaking down. Sadly, there was not enough energy in the whole world to hold him together.

He hadn’t even made it to the sofa when he began to cry, so he just sat down on the floor and let it all wash over him. People talking about Astoria without respect, or as if she didn’t matter or had never even existed, always set him off. It was such a painful reminder of the gaping black hole inside of him, the void left in his life and the life of his son that could never be filled no matter how much everyone else loved them. There would just always be something missing inside of him, and he and Scorpius would just have to learn how to live with that but _fuck_ if that wasn’t a depressing thing to know.

“Draco.” The floo had flared up. Judging by his surprised tone, Harry had only dropped by to dump his stuff, not because he knew about the scene Draco had caused in the stationery store. The man was quick to recover from his shock though, and soon kneeled down at his side. “Oh Draco, what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Draco lied. Harry immediately gave him a pointed look. Even to him this was clearly a lie. “I’m just-, someone reminded me Scorpius will grow up without a mum. I have you, I still have someone to hold on to but he doesn’t.”

“Hey, hey that’s not true, Draco. He has you, he has your mother.” Harry shushed and pulled him close. “Everything considered, Scorpius has a wonderful life, an amazing father, and great friends and you really should stop beating yourself up about this. It’s horrible how you lost Astoria but you’re doing the best you can. No one can ask you to do more than this, ey?”

Draco didn’t reply. There was no way he could force the words past his lips. He felt so bloody _useless_ when he got like this. Two years after Astoria’s death and he still all but collapsed every time she came up. It wasn’t fair to Scorpius to see his father so weak, and it wasn’t fair to Harry to keep mourning his late wife around him.

“Draco, I know what you’re doing, and you need to stop. You always feel so guilty about everything. Yes, you made mistakes as a kid, but not that many and mostly under great pressure. That’s behind you now. It’s in the past. You changed and you’re doing things _right_ now. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“Stop being so nice and understanding, you prick.” Draco sniffed as he lifted his head form Harry’s shoulder. “I can’t call you an idiot if you do that.”

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” Harry snorted. “What are we if not a dumb idiot and a posh git?”

“A disaster father and a big teddy bear.” Draco shook his head and leaned his back against the couch. “I’m sorry. My emotions are still a bit all over the place from yesterday. You know how I am after a panic attack.”

“I do.” Harry laced their fingers together and squeezed. “But there’s no need to apologise for that. Merlin knows you’re the only one stubborn enough to stick with me when I get into one of my moods. Also, if we’re going to be a disaster father and a teddy bear, you are totally the teddy bear.”

“I am not!” Draco called out in mock offence. “I’m not huggable enough, I’m too skinny!”

Harry gasped. “Are you calling me _fat_? Worse still, are you calling yourself a disaster father?”

“I would never, and yes.” Draco replied, snark creeping back into his voice even though the tears still hadn’t dried on his face. “You know I’m not a hugger, yet I still hug you because you give the best hugs, so yes, a teddy bear. And with the amount of breakdowns I have I think it’s more than fair to call myself a disaster.”

“Bullshit, you wouldn’t survive two days without a hug whether it’s mine or not. And have you seen the last time I tried to teach James how to cook pancakes? I’m sorry Draco but that disaster father title is mine and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Well I’m still not a teddy bear.” Draco pouted, letting go of Harry’s hand and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And remember the last time Scorpius got hold of one of Rose’s princess dresses and a jar of glitter?”

Harry threw his head back and laughed. Draco soon joined him. Scorpius had been quite the sight when he’d come back from the Granger-Weasleys. According to Hermione, Ron was still removing glitter from behind his ears two weeks later.

“Oh god that was a marvelous day.” Harry snickered. “But I must say you looked quite good covered in glitter. And you did an excellent job convincing Scorpius to get rid of the dress and put on his pyjamas. I would call that fabulous parenting, not disaster parenting.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible!” Draco swatted him and pretended to look mad. “And I’m still not a teddy bear.”

“You are to Scorpius,” Harry said, suddenly sounding quite serious. “He adores you, Draco, and for good reason. You’re a brilliant dad, no matter what you think or what anyone else tells you. Why won’t you get that through your thick skull, you bastard?”

“Because I idolized my father, and look how that ended.” Draco sighed and looked at his knees. “I don’t want to be the only person he looks up to. It isn’t right. But I don’t trust other people enough for him to look up to. Well, except for you of course. And I get so protective of him because he’s been through so much, so I don’t even _allow_ him to get influenced by other people but I’m scared to death he’ll grow up to be like me.”

“What, a brilliant man who learned from his mistakes and turned into an amazing and thoughtful person?” Harry pulled him close again, resting their heads together. “Draco, you’re not teaching Scorpius your mistakes or your past racism, you’re teaching him how to self-reflect; how to always keep improving; how to be a compassionate and kind man. If he grows up to be like you he’ll turn out to be amazing. Now stop worrying so much about him. He’s doing great.”

“If he ends up being like me he’ll have anxiety and two therapy sessions a week.” Draco sighed, but he chuckled when he saw Harry’s glare. “But fine, I’ll admit I might worry a bit too much about him. But I’m his dad! What else am I supposed to do except worry about him?”

“Relax a little and accept that you’re raising him to be a good kid and that you don’t have to stress that much about him?”

Draco snorted. “Me? Relaxed? Have you met me, Potter? Last time I relaxed was like, seven years ago.”

Harry got a thoughtful look on his face, and for a moment Draco feared he would suggest something stupid like a holiday or a sauna visit or a massage. As if he could ever relax during those things when he still had Scorpius to worry about. But instead Harry changed the subject, and said, “We still have to pop by the supermarket, unless we want our kids to starve.”

“Very true.” Draco chuckled and held out his hand so Harry could pull him up after getting to his feet. “They’re so tiny yet they eat so much. I don’t know where they store it all.”

“Says the man who eats more than I do yet still doesn’t have an ounce of body fat.” Harry jokingly poked him in his side. It was true, Draco was and probably always would be skinny. It had its perks, but he would prefer to look a bit more like Harry, with his soft stomach and great, _great_ strong hugging arms. Harry rolled his eyes when he noticed him staring. “Yes yes, I know that I _do_ have more than an ounce of body fat.”

“And I love that about you.” Now it was Draco pulling Harry close, impossibly close as if Draco was trying to merge them together. However stupid it sounded he wanted to squeeze all of Harry’s insecurity out of him. He knew it was hard on the ex-auror that he’d gained a stone or two, especially because of the horrible media coverage. Draco sighed deeply and inhaled Harry’s scent like a drug addict in need of a fix. “Perfect teddy bear.”

“You don’t have to-,” Harry started, but Draco cut him off.

“Harry, as a friend of Granger you should know that it’s useless to deny the truth. And the truth is that I love you, every inch, ounce and part of you, and I’m going to drag you around until you’re old and almost falling apart just like I used to do with my favourite teddy. Only my father can’t take you from me, so even then I won’t leave, and I won’t ever love you any less. Get it through your thick skull, Harry. I am violently clingy and you can probably commit murder and I still wouldn’t go away. Now stop fussing.”

“I was just saying that-”

But he cut Harry off again. “Nope. I won’t hear it. Unless it starts to get unhealthy I won’t hear it, and you are so far away from that point that you’re not even allowed to think of it.”

“Fine.” Harry sighed, but he relaxed into Draco’s arms all the same. Draco had discovered that Harry had a lot of ‘facts’ he knew about his body. Like the fact that he weighed too much, or the fact that his knees were ugly, or the fact that his hair was gross. Only none of those things were actually true, and Draco did his best to convince Harry of that every time he discovered another fact. “You’re strict.”

“Only when it comes to such blatant lies.” Draco stuck up his nose. “Now come along, Potter. We have some shopping to do.”

* * *

 

“Daddy!” James’ high pitched scream pierced through the kitchen and Harry quickly stopped putting the milk away before his eldest son attacked him. Lily was quick to follow, after which came Albus and an exhausted looking Andromeda. Teddy might be a tad excitable sometimes, but he was nothing compared to Harry’s hyperactive hurricanes. “Daddy, I missed you Daddy! Are we having pancakes for dinner? Please say yes, Andy made us eat brussel sprouts!”

“Brussel sprouts? What a delicious treat,” Draco said just to tease James a bit. It worked, the kid pulled a face and made a vomiting noise. “Oh come come, James. I’m sure they weren’t that bad.”

“They were worse.” James pouted. “Now we need pancakes.”

“That’s your battle to fight, love.” Draco smiled when Harry pulled a face to match his son’s. He hated playing bad cop, but as a single parent he still had to. It wouldn’t surprise Draco if they ended up eating pancakes that night though. “Andy! I’ll fetch you a cup of tea.” He greeted his aunt with a jovial smile and added in a low whisper as he walked past her, “And I’ll add something stronger to it.”

“You’re a blessing, son, and don’t you forget it.” Andromeda sighed as she went to sit in the living room. Draco left the mayhem of the kitchen and joined her as soon as the tea was done. “Speaking of sons, Draco, where is Scorpius?”

“Still at my mum’s place,” he replied. “Merlin, it feels weird to call the Manor that.”

“I still think your mother should leave that place. It’s too big for her; too many bad memories.” Andy shook her head. “I told her she can come live with me, but something is stopping her. Fear of change, maybe.”

Draco shook his head. “She wanted to leave that place before Astoria fell ill. But now… I can come back there, whenever I like, whenever I need it and I can tell her to leave because I can find my own place but she won’t listen to me.” He chuckled. “She never listens to anyone. Last time I tried she told me, _Draco, you keep saying Scorpius is all you have. Well, you are all I have, so no I won’t leave._ ”

“She’s always done things exactly the way she wanted to.” Andromeda exchanged a smile with him that made him ache for all the family moments he never had as a child. It had always been him and his parents, plus the occasional business associate of his father. Never a warm smile like this. Draco often wondered why his mother had ever married his father, but he supposed the man had been different before the war. Either that, or his mother hadn’t had that much choice after all when it came to marriage. Most purebloods didn’t.

“Maybe she’ll be more susceptible if you offer now.” Draco chewed his bottom lip as he eyed the kitchen. Lily had attached herself to Harry’s leg while James was trying to help him cook and Albus read the recipe. “It’s been a while since… you know.”

“It hasn’t been that long if you still can’t say it.” Suddenly Andy squeezed his hand. “There’s no hurry to grieve or recover, dear. No one’s rushing you. Especially not your mother or Harry.” She sat back in her chair and followed his gaze to the kitchen. Harry had gotten flour in his hair despite the fact that he was now making a salad before getting started on the pancakes. “You’ve caught a good one with him. Hot-headed at times, but nothing you can’t handle.”

“He’s way too bloody nice, the infuriating git.” Draco shook his head. “But I love him anyway.”

“Nice is good, Draco.” Andy squeezed his hand again. “You deserve nice.”

“If you say so.” Draco struggled not to listen to the never-silent voice in the back of his head, telling him that he didn’t deserve anything at all, least of all nice. Andy wouldn’t accept it, and after years of therapy he knew the voice was lying anyway. It was very difficult not to listen to it though.

He got up from the sofa and walked over to the floo. “I’ll go fetch Scorpius now. He’d be so disappointed if I let him miss pancakes.”

Andromeda shot him a smile as he disappeared in the flames. It made him feel quite bad--or perhaps _weird_ was a better word--about himself when leaving made him feel relieved. The compliments, people telling him he _deserved_ things, they were exhausting.

At some point, probably around the start of the war, something had permanently broken inside of him. Ever since, it just made no sense to him that anyone believed him to be deserving of good things. It was why he hadn’t taken Dumbledore’s offer that night on top of the astronomy tower, because he’d been scared and so _shocked_ that the man would offer him an out. Like he deserved that after all the shit he’d pulled.

At least his mother didn’t say things like that. If she believed he deserved something she made sure he got it instead of talking to him. It was how their dynamic worked and why he loved spending time with her so much. Without her, he’d be utterly lost.

He briskly walked through the many corridors and hallways of the Manor until he’d located his mother and son. They were just finishing up a late afternoon tea party, though Scorpius seemed more than excited at the prospect of pancakes.

“You spoil him, Draco,” his mother criticised after she told the kid to go fetch his coat. Draco rolled his eyes. As if she hadn’t fed him sweets at every opportunity she’d gotten when he was young.

“ _I_ spoil him?” Draco huffed. “Harry is the one who spoils people. I swear to Merlin, if those kids didn’t have Ginny or Andy, they would never eat fruit again.”

“I heard Mrs Weasley watches them regularly too.” _Damnit_ , his mother had caught the fact that he had omitted to mention her name. That was a quality he didn’t always love. Lying to his mother was next to impossible. “How is she with Scorpius?”

Draco raised a sharp eyebrow. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I felt like I had to. You came back so upset yesterday, and you never did tell me what happened.” His mother pulled him close the way only mothers could, and Draco both hated and loved it. The hug made him feel vulnerable, but also safe enough to fall apart and still come out alright. “You don’t have to tell me now, but if you want to get it off your chest….”

“It wasn’t really that big a deal.” Draco sighed, figuring that it was best to get it over with now. “Mrs Weasley was holding Scorpius and he wanted her to let go. She didn’t, he screamed, I barged in and made a mess of the whole thing. I was trying to make her see that consent is just as much a thing for kids as for adults, but I was angry and she felt attacked and now we left in a fight. And then I met Percy Weasley today, who took his mother’s side and started the whole argument again, and before that I met Ginny who is on my side and now I’m scared I’ve caused a rift in a family I’m not even part of.”

He only realised how true his last fear was once he’d spoken it it aloud.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad, Draco. And if it is, then that’s the drama caused by them, caused by friction already in the family, and that is out of your control. You stood your ground on a very important topic and you should be proud of yourself, not doubt yourself.” His mother squeezed him once before letting go. “Besides, I doubt Harry will agree if you tell him you think you’re not a part of his family. In fact, I might just tell him to see how he responds.”

“Mother!” Draco’s eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t.”

But his mother just smiled at him, and turned to Scorpius when the little guy ran into the room, his coat firmly around his shoulders. “Hey, my prince. You ready to go home with your Daddy?”

“Yes!” he yelled, beaming at his grandmother before gesturing for Draco to pick him up. “We’re having pancakes!”

* * *

 

Despite having slept in that morning, Draco was dead on his feet by the time he reached the bed. His days were often like that. Worrying about everything and having mental breakdowns had gotten him diagnosed with chronic exhaustion last year, a side effect of his anxiety and depression. But at least with Harry already in bed, he knew he would have a nightmare-free night.

“Finally got Scorpius and Al down?” Harry chuckled when Draco didn’t even deem that question worthy of a reply. As if he would be headed for bed if their sons were still running rampant through the house. They loved sharing a room together, but it took a million years to get them to fall asleep now. “I figured you’d have the hardest job tonight.”

“I did.” Draco glared at Harry before starting to undress. “James didn’t think your story telling had been adequate, so he thought it was a good idea to join us. Albus demanded a longer story because James was there, taking up half the story, and then Scorpius tried to explain that James took up a third, not a half, but he was already half asleep so you can imagine how well that went.” He tossed his clothes on the laundry chair, skipped his own pyjamas and grabbed an old pair of joggers from Harry. When he was awake he’d complain about how vulgar and horrid the things were, but for now he just needed their cozy warmth if he wanted to survive the night. “Budge over, Potter. You’re on my side.”

“I am not!” Harry countered even as he moved aside. “And besides, why does it matter? You always pull me over to your side anyway, _and_ you complain when I haven’t warmed up your side of the bed.”

“And I just spent nearly an hour and a half putting your kids to bed.” Draco pointed out as he climbed under the covers. “I have earned every right to complain there is. Now come over here, Potter. I’m cold.”

“You’re a bastard, that’s what you are,” Harry mumbled even as he rolled over again and put his head on Draco’s bare chest. “But I love you anyway.”

“Of course you love me.” Draco smirked. “What’s not to love?”

“I wish you really were that confident about yourself,” Harry said as he rested his chin on Draco’s chest and looked up at him. “I mean, you say the words, but I know you don’t believe them. Which is stupid, because they are true.”

“I’m hardly perfect, Harry.” Draco forced out a chuckle that sounded fake even to his own ears. “But saying the words is a good first step, I hope.”

“It’s something.” Harry sighed and lay his head back down on Draco’s chest, his ear positioned just above Draco’s heart. Usually the sound of that lulled Harry to sleep long before Draco closed his eyes. “Sometimes I wish I could beat everyone up who ever made you feel bad.”

“Domestic violence is illegal, Harry.” Draco snorted. He knew he was deflecting, using his self deprecating humour to avoid giving a serious response, but it was late, he was tired, and all this bettering himself crap sucked the life out of him. He knew that if he didn’t fight it, he’d end up in a bad place, but fighting every day without a permanent victory in sight was depressing. “And self-harm isn’t healthy.”

That made Harry lift himself up. “I made you feel bad?”

“On occasion.” Draco shrugged. Now he felt bad about making Harry feel bad about making _him_ feel bad, and it was giving him a headache to think about it all. “Stuff in the past. You know what I mean by that. And on occasion I get a little jealous of you.”

“Jealous of me?” Harry frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t want to tell you.” Draco rolled over so he wouldn’t have to look at Harry anymore. He’d only just thought of how bloody stupid he would sound if he spoke up about it. Besides it wasn’t even that big a deal. He wished he hadn’t said anything.

“Draco…” Harry sighed in such a way that Draco knew he would have to come clean. Harry would never pressure him, but he would come up with all kinds of sob stories and feel guilty about those all night. Draco couldn’t have that.

“I would just like to have what you have sometimes. That dive-in head first carelessness, not worrying all the time, having a supportive ex-wife, and a giant circle of family and friends to fall back on. Though I might just have ruined the latter a bit for you.”

“Draco, what happened at the Burrow… It sucked, but it wasn’t your fault.” Harry threw an arm around his chest, spooning him from behind. “Molly will come around, she always does, but in the meantime you have to stop beating yourself up about it, okay?”

“I try.” Draco let out a deep breath and pressed Harry’s hand closer to his chest. “This entire thing just… triggered my anxiety, made it all so much worse. I was sort of doing okay before, and now, I don’t _want_ to be this insecure, or hate myself this much, but I still do.”

Harry didn’t answer. Or at least he didn’t right away. First he pulled back and turned Draco over so they were looking at each other again. And even then he bent down to kiss him before he spoke. “Draco Lucius Malfoy, I do not understand how anyone could ever dislike you the way you are now. And that includes you.”

“You just think that because I’m being nice to you.” Draco muttered. He hid his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. These weren’t the types of conversations he liked to have face to face. In fact these weren’t the kind of conversations he liked to have, period. “All I’m saying is, even if it wasn’t my fault, I’m still sorry about what happened at the Burrow. Wherever I go friction and conflict follows and that might not always be my fault but I’m definitely not innocent in this game.”

“Well maybe that’s because wherever you go people get called out on their bullshit. Their quiet resentments, inability to apologise, lingering racism. And no matter how shit you feel about yourself, it’s never so bad that you don’t challenge people to debates when it’s needed. That’s something to be proud of, not something to feel ashamed about.”

Draco lifted his head and arched an eyebrow. “You’ve been talking to Hermione again, haven’t you?”

“Luna, actually.” Harry blushed and now he was the one trying to hide his face. “I just-, I love you, but sometimes you’re a little hard to understand. In an emotional sense, I mean. Like, you’ve been through so much and I often think I’m a bit too Gryffindor to see what you’re really about.” Harry sighed, and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “You really didn’t believe for a second I had thought of that on my own, did you?”

Draco chuckled. “The wording gave you away. The fierceness of that little speech was all you, though.” Draco searched for Harry’s hand under the duvet, only found his hip, and decided to just squeeze that. “And I still know you mean those words, so it doesn’t matter that they weren’t your own. We all have our-,”

But Draco was forced to cut off his sentence by a giant yawn.

Harry smiled down at him and pressed his lips to Draco’s cheek. ”I think that’s enough heavy talk for tonight.”

“Enough heavy talk for a bloody lifetime,” Draco responded. He yawned again and settled his head on Harry’s chest. Draco had almost dozed off when Harry brushed a lock of hair out of his face and kissed his forehead.

“Night, Draco,” Harry whispered, putting an exhausted smile on Draco’s face. “And just so you know, you are a brilliant dad, to more kids than just Scorpius, and don’t you forget it.”

* * *

 

The other side of the bed was empty and cold when Draco woke up the next morning. He hated it when that happened, especially right now, because it was bloody cold outside and since Harry was a living and breathing furnace, he had never bothered with any kind of heating charms on his bedroom. Draco suspected he even left the window open a crack.

“Harryyyy,” he whined, even though he knew no one could hear him. “Come back. It’s too cold.”

“Harry is in the kitchen making a fry up.” Draco lifted his head to see his son in the doorway, a steaming plate in his tiny hands. “He asked me to bring you breakfast,” Scorpius said as he walked into the bedroom. He didn’t climb on the bed like usual, though. Instead he put the plate on the nightstand and stayed right where he was. “Can I join you, Daddy?”

“Of course you can join me, love.” Draco rolled onto his back and held the covers open for his son. “You know you always can, right? There’s no need to ask.”

“But you said it’s important to ask before you do something with other people.” Scorpius frowned. “What if I don’t ask, and you don’t feel like it? Then you can’t say no.”

“That-, that’s true,” Draco stuttered as he tried very, _very_ hard not to melt. His son was already thinking more about his actions at the age of five than Draco had done at the age of fifteen. He could not be more proud. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Scorpius nodded eagerly and immediately curled up against his chest. “Harry is the best hugger in the world, but you’re still the best dad in the world.”

“And you’re the best son in the world, Scorp.” Draco put his arms around his kid and held him close. He could get used to waking up like this, with a fresh fry up and the best tiny human ever climbing into his bed. Scorpius, never one for being held for long, pressed a kiss to his cheek and climbed off him again, sitting up on the bed.

“Don’t let your breakfast get cold, Dad. Harry said you had to eat all of it because you are too skinny.”

Draco groaned and hid behind his hands. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true,” Scorpius replied with a condescending look on his face. Draco snorted. Though he definitely wasn’t trying to make Scorpius be like him, sometimes his son really acted like a mini-Draco.  

“Fine, I’ll eat,” Draco grumbled and sat up, though he couldn’t fake being pissed off anymore when he saw the deliciousness that was Harry’s fry up. Albus came into the room when he was halfway through and he was soon followed by James and Lily. Draco was just beginning to wonder why Harry wasn’t there yet when he poked his messy head around the door.

“Would you mind terribly to watch the kids today? I was supposed to meet up with Oliver today and sort of forgot.”

“Of course you did.” Draco rolled his eyes. Harry’s memory was about as messy as his hair. If he hadn’t had him or Hermione, he would never be on time for anything ever again. “You do realise that I have a job, right?”

“Your potions business runs smoothly without you anywhere near it, Draco.” Harry pointed out. Which was true. Draco did the experimenting and the other members of his team did the production of the finished formula, but they didn’t need him around as much now. “But if you don’t have time I can-”

“No, no, Potter. I’ll do it.” He’d only been teasing Harry. In fact he rather liked his chill work schedule now that it meant he could play stay-at-home-dad with Harry and occasionally Ron. Which reminded him that if he wanted some entertainment, he could always send the four kids to the Granger-Weasley’s with a jar of glitter and watch the chaos unfold. He held out his arms and beckoned Harry to come closer. “Kiss.”

“Ewwwww.” James pretended to vomit as his dad hopped onto the bed and crawled over to give his boyfriend a kiss. “That’s disgusting.”

“No, no, Daddy, you have to ask!” Scorpius hopped between them before anything could happen, shooting a firm look at both his dad and Harry. “When you do something with or to other people, you always have to ask.”

“You’re right, Scorp. I’m sorry.” Draco shot his son an apologetic look. It was true. If he was going to teach his son consent, the least he could do was live by his own rules. Harry just chuckled. When Scorpius nodded, content with his response, and moved out of the way, Draco turned back to Harry. “Harry James Potter, will you please kiss me?”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, I would love to.” Harry planted his knees on either side of Draco’s hips and gently cupped his face, angling his head just right before planting one of the softest, nicest kisses on Draco’s lips that he’d ever had. “I love you.”

“I love you too, you sap,” Draco replied as James happily continued making retching noises in the background. “Now get going you, otherwise this proud nation will never have a quidditch little league.”

“Yes sir!” Harry saluted him and hopped off the bed. Then his kids spent the next ten minutes saying their faked teary goodbyes to their father, before Harry waved at him one last time and went out the door. Draco smiled. Despite everything, he was quite a happy man now.

* * *

 

It didn’t last of course. When did it ever? Albus, Lily and James sat neatly in a row, all quiet and well-behaved. A well-behaved Potter never boded well. Draco couldn’t sit, though. He’d been here before, only last time he’d been too numb to really feel what was going on. Now everything seemed to bright. The lime green floors, the smell of disinfectant, the numerous Healers and nurses walking past with a sympathetic look on their face that only made him panic more.

“Draco, you have to sit.” It was James who pulled on his sleeve, making him stop his pacing. Draco didn’t know why he had to sit, why he couldn’t pace. He liked pacing, pacing was good, pacing was something to do other than sit still and wait for the inevitable bad news. But he still sat, because James’ face was dead serious and despite the fact that he was a child Draco couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him. Maybe he even liked being told what to do, if only by Harry’s seven year old son, because then at least he didn’t have to make his own choices. Merlin knew what disasters were bound to happen when he did that.

Once he sat, James climbed into his lap and gave him a hug. Draco didn’t understand why he did that, until the kid began to talk, saying things would be alright, that there was no need for panic. He was mimicking his dad. Draco couldn’t remember a time when he’d had a full blown panic attack in the presence of Harry’s kids, but if anyone was going to disobey rules, sneak out of bed and see something like that it was James. And though Draco prefered his father, it did help a little bit. At least now he could focus on how weird it was that he was getting calmed down by a child, and how inappropriate as well. He really needed to get a grip on himself. He promised Harry he would watch the kids, and he had.

Just not good enough. He was never good enough. His son was shy but he was lively. He should have noticed that it was odd that just after getting dressed he’d gone just as quiet as Albus usually was. But there were kids to entertain, letters to answer, lunch to make and in all the hectics of the day all four of them had found themselves shocked when they saw the very, very still, limp form of Scorpius Malfoy on the couch. He was cold, he had blue specks on his skin, responded sluggishly at first and not at all minutes later. It was exactly like the worst days of the blood curse. The days Draco had been sure he would lose him, and now…

“Albus, I want you to go get Dad. Floo Auntie Hermione and Uncle Ron, they’ll know what to do.” The voice of James sounded so far away, even though the kid was speaking right next to his ear. Draco was at a loss with his mental state now. Everything seemed covered in fog, yet his emotions were sharp as knives, the panic clawing at him, drowning him because _he couldn’t lose his son_.

But he might.

It was such a fucking treacherous curse, but the Healers had told him it was so weak now it couldn’t do any damage anymore. He wondered if they’d lied to him just because of his name. If they wanted to see him squirm and hope and break just like the many grieving families of war victims had done. He should have made sure Scorpius had more check ups, should have given custody to Astoria’s parents. He clearly wasn’t fit to raise a child, let alone a child that needed special care.

His vision started going in and out of focus. A nurse stopped by and tried to calm him down, first with words and then with calming draught but the first didn’t work and the second he refused. Calming draught felt like a straight jacket, forcing his panic down in a way that somehow only made it feel worse. James had left his lap at some point, and to his shame Draco had to say he wasn’t sure where he’d gone off to.

“Draco!” Footsteps. Boots running. Warm hands wrapped around his icy fingers, squeezing them, trying to get him back to the present. But Draco didn’t want to go back to the present. He wanted to stay in this limbo where his thoughts went so fast he couldn’t decipher them, because that way he didn’t have to think about the possibility of losing his son.

“Draco!” Harry repeated, dumping his entire weight on his lap before he wrapped Draco up in a bone crushing hug, anchoring him down until he came to a standstill. Slowly Draco became aware of his rapid breathing against Harry’s chest, the smell of his quidditch sweater drowning out the hospital stench. Strong hands rubbed at his back, massaging out the tension to the best of their abilities.

Draco loved Harry. It was an odd moment to realize that, but he did. He did and he told him too, as he clung at his chest. His legs fell asleep under Harry’s weight while his mind woke up, fog clearing away until he was fully aware of what he was doing once again. Which was whispering apologies between _I love you_ ’s, rambling like an absolute fool.

“Draco it’s alright, I’m here, it’s okay. There’s no need to apologise, the kids are safe. Scorpius is going to be fine, I promise.”

“How can you know that?” Draco asked, finally bringing some variation to his whispered pleas.

“Because he’s a fighter, that son of yours.” Harry squeezed his shoulders, trying to get him to look at him. Draco stubbornly kept his face in the crook of Harry’s neck though. He didn’t want to face the world, he didn’t want all of this to happen again, he didn’t want to lose his son.

“Draco, look at me.” Harry suddenly sounded a lot more serious and stern. “Your son is in surgery, he’s getting the best of care and as soon as he gets out of there and wakes up, he’s going to want to see his father. And he doesn’t want to see this father, hyperventilating in a hospital hallway with tears on your face. He’s going to need a rock, and he’ll need _you_ as a rock, because he’s small, and he’s going through this whole process again and that must be so scary for him. He’ll be absolutely terrified without his father by his side.”

Draco nodded and looked up. He felt his parental side take over, felt the tremor in his hands disappear. It was true, what Harry said. Scorpius needed him. He’d already lost his mother, had already been traumatized by too many prodding Healers before, and now everything was happening again.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I-,” the words got stuck in his throat as he was overwhelmed with a feeling of _idiocy_ , because _how on earth_ had he let himself go like that? In front of Harry’s kids, no less. He must have terrified them. “I’m sorry, Harry. I should have kept a grip on myself.”

“It’s okay, it’s in the past.” Harry squeezed his shoulders again and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I’m so sorry this is happening again. But you have to be strong for him, hey?”

He nodded, and looked around the waiting room. All three Potter kids were gone, but when he looked the other way, his stomach turned. None other than Mrs Weasley was looking after James, Albus and Lily. Unconsciously, he tightened his hold on Harry.

“She was in the room when Albus floo’ed Ron.” Harry explained. “There was no stopping her when she heard what had happened.”

“It’s okay,” Draco reassured, more to himself than to Harry. Worrying about his fight with the Weasley Matriarch was the last thing he needed right now. “I’m glad that there is someone responsible around for the kids. Not that you aren’t-,”

“Draco, I get it. Stop stressing.” Harry took a hold of his hands and looked at him. “You need tea, and then you need a Healer update, and then you’re off to bed in the same room where they’ll put Scorpius after he’s out of surgery, okay? And stress isn’t part of any of those steps.”

Draco just nodded, and let himself be guided to the hospital cafeteria for a cup of tea. As always it tasted like absolute crap, but at least it was warm. He felt just a tiny bit more human again once he was finished with it. Still, the mist around his senses did return, stopping him from focussing on anything other than his son, how he was doing, what had happened, if he would recover. He didn’t think he’d been able to find his way back to the right ward if Harry hadn’t guided him.

“Mr Malfoy.” He was greeted by a curt nod from Scorpius’ Healer, a man who he’d hoped to never see again. The feeling was mutual, judging by the pity in his eyes. “I’m afraid your son is still in theatre, but if you come into my office I can give you an update on how things are looking right now.”

Draco silently followed him inside, tightening his hold on Harry’s hand when the man made a move to stay behind in the hallway. As if he was capable of doing this on his own.

“I’ll get right to it, then.” The Healer clasped his hands together after sitting down, and looked at Draco over the edge of his gold rimmed glasses. He looked older than the world itself, though he’d always talked and acted with an amount of energy that made Draco jealous. Often just being near the man made him feel even more exhausted. “As you know, his curse is a nasty piece of work. We thought we had it under control and cut off from all energy supplies, and all of our check ups backed that up, but somehow the magic acted faster than we thought it could. Somewhere in the last couple of days the curse latched onto the natural magic of your son and fed on it until it was powerful enough to resurface. We’re trying everything we can right now to once again cut it off from any kind of magical energy, but it’s a tricky surgery given how potent your son’s natural magic is. Which is why, as we speak, my colleagues are trying to lull Scorpius’ magic to sleep.”

The Healer continued his technical talk, but Draco had zoned out. This was like Scorp’s first sick bed all over again, a long complicated speech full of hopeful words that eventually lead to an even sicker son and an ever stronger curse. The staff always made sure they sounded like they knew what they were doing, but Draco was well aware of the fact that they were all walking in the dark with this thing. Ancient, aggressive and long dormant blood curses were no one’s field of expertise, given that they sometimes didn’t show in anyone for centuries.

“Draco.” Harry squeezed his hand, making him snap back into the present just in time to hear the Healer’s last words.

“...Really say how long it will take, but we expect your son to get out of surgery in two to three hours, and as soon as all his vitals check out correctly he’ll be moved to his own room here on the ward. You can wait for him there, the matron knows you don’t have to stick to visiting hours.”

“Thank you,” Draco said as he rose from his chair and shook hands with the Healer. Black spots danced in his field of vision, and he was glad when Harry quickly escorted him back to the hallway. In all the commotion he’d forgotten to have lunch and it was showing now.

“You alright there?” Harry frowned when he had to offer more than just moral support to get him out of the Healer’s office.

“It’s fine, I just got up too fast.” He dismissed Harry’s concern with a shake of his head, which only made him more dizzy. Despite everything he chuckled at his own dumb behaviour. “Merlin, I’m a mess.”

“As long as Scorpius is still in theatre, you’re allowed to be a mess.” Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s temple and began walking him in the direction of what Draco guessed would be Scorpius’ room. “I’ll get you settled and then I’ll grab you something to eat, alright?”

“Just as long as it isn’t hospital food.” Draco warned. The stuff was gross, it always was. One would think that in a place where sick people were trying to get better, the food would be somewhat decent and healthy. Somehow it was always over- or undercooked, covered in gravy, soaked in salt or overdosed with sugar or all three at the same time though, and none of that had ever agreed with Draco’s stomach. “I’d rather eat a cardboard box.”

“There’s the man I love.” Harry chuckled. “And don’t worry, I’ll ask Ron for food. Knowing him, he’ll already have seven turkeys in the oven. You know how he gets when he’s stressed, especially when someone’s in the hospital.”

“You think he’d get like that for me?” Draco’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Ron’s cooking frenzies were famous. The youngest Weasley son was worse than his mother when it came to his work in the kitchen, making more extravagant meals each time Draco visited. Normally he only turned to stress baking when there was something amiss in his family or when his friends were sick though.

“Have you met Ron recently?” Harry looked as if he couldn’t believe Draco would doubt that. “He loves Scorpius to bits. Plus, I know for a fact he thinks you’re a great father, even though he would never say so to your face. He’ll have the food ready before you can say the word _toast_.”

“I’d actually quite like some toast,” Draco muttered after recovering from the idea that _Ronald Weasley_ thought he was a good parent. That was just… Weird. In a good way but still.

“Then we’ll get you some toast,” Harry promised as they entered one of the patient’s rooms. It looked exactly like the room he’d lost Astoria in, and the room where he’d almost lost his son in the months after that. Suddenly it hit him again that this was all _real_. That this wasn’t some sort of nightmare, but that he was actually back at St Mungo's while Scorpius had to fight for his life yet _again_.

It didn’t trigger another panic attack, but _Merlin_ was he grateful that Harry was still at his side, ready to catch him when he briefly allowed himself to break down and sob into the man’s neck. He clutched at Harry’s back, desperate for something to hold onto, desperate to block his emotions before the flood gates were fully open and he’d turn into a giant mess. Scorpius deserved better than that.

“ _Draco_.” The pain he felt inside was somehow audible in Harry’s voice as the man hugged him back just as fierce. “He’s going to be alright. He’s our little fighter, and he’s going to be alright. Both of you are, I promise. You’re not alone this time.”

Harry’s words just made it worse. Saying Scorpius was _their_ little fighter, saying he wouldn’t be alone this time, it was too much. “I love you.” They didn’t really feel like the right words to say, but Draco didn’t know how to tell Harry about this all consuming feeling of safety he got in the man’s arms. How much he needed an anchor and how _good_ Harry was at anchoring him. How incredibly grateful he was that he had someone at his side this time, someone to keep him warm and make sure he ate and make sure he wasn’t _alone_. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too.” Harry squeezed him one more time before pulling back with red rimmed eyes and a watery smile on his face. Then he walked him towards the only chair in the room next to the clean white bed and sat him down after transfiguring it into something more comfortable. “You’re going to be alright here?”

“I think it might be good to get myself together for a moment.”

“Anything you need. Just say the word, alright?”

Draco just nodded and pulled his knees to his chest while he watched Harry leave. He wasn’t sure if it hurt more or less, knowing that he had a family of his own outside of Scorpius this time around. He just knew it hurt, worse than any _crucio_ ever could.

* * *

 

A knock on the door startled Draco, but he relaxed again when he saw who it was. “Merlin, you weren’t kidding when you said Weasley would make plenty of food.”

Harry walked backwards into the room, two giant IKEA bags in each hand. Half of the furniture of each Weasley came from the Swedish store ever since Hermione had brought Mr Weasley there as a birthday gift. They still weren’t sure if that had been an awful or a brilliant idea. “Ha bloody ha, Draco. It’s not all food.” Harry lifted one of the bags, the one that looked the heaviest, and put it on the bedside table with a loud thud. “This is the food. The rest is blankets and clothing and books and all that. And Ron said your mother is gathering things for Scorpius as we speak, so he’ll have everything he needs when he wakes up.”

Despite everything Draco couldn’t help but smile as he got up and planted his lips on Harry’s temple. “I’d be lost without you.”

“Ey, don’t kiss the messenger.” Harry chuckled and pulled Draco into a quick one armed hug. “I’m just doing the donkey work.”

“Yeah, but I’m not kissing Ron now, am I?” Draco pulled a face.

“Yeah, maybe not.” Harry chuckled. “I could kiss him for you, if you like. Pass the affection along.”

“As long as that doesn’t get Hermione breathing down my neck, do your worst.”

Harry laughed at that, and Draco sighed with relief. This bit of banter felt like the fresh breath of air he’d been craving for ever since his son had taken ill. It was one thing he had learned from all those weeks in the hospital; Being sick was a serious business, but if that meant being serious all the time you’d go insane. Relieving tension by laughing was always a nicer option than crying your eyes out.

“I’ll remember to ask if I can snog her husband next time I see Hermione.” Harry put the other bag on the floor and grabbed Draco’s hand. He didn’t do anything else though. What he did do was tilt his head and look at Draco thoughtfully for a moment. “Is it okay if I pull you onto the chair with me?”

Draco nodded, feeling warmth spread through his chest because his view on consent was rubbing off on Harry. “Just don’t fidget. I’m not good with light touches when I’m anxious.”

“Okay.” Harry sat down and pulled Draco down onto his lap. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Draco shook his head. “Not now. I just want to sit for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” Draco settled properly on Harry’s lap and put his head on his shoulder. He was scared and tired, but somehow he also had too much energy and he felt both stretched thin and too intensely emotional at the same time. Basically, he felt like a mess. He just hoped Harry’s firm back rubs and the passing of time would ease that as he waited for his son to come out of theatre.

After about half an hour of waiting, his mother arrived at the hospital, delivering some much needed pyjamas and Scorpius’ well loved stuffed niffler. She also brought a firm hug and some comforting words, though she refused to stay in the room and wait with them when Draco asked her. “Scorpius doesn’t need three people at his bedside, it’ll only overwhelm the little man. Plus, I have other things to do. Scorpius will do just fine with just his dads in the room.”

She’d left again before either him or Harry could comment on the fact that she saw the pair of them as Scorpius’ dads. Harry clearly wasn’t sure if he could call himself that already, judging by the insecurity in his eyes when Draco looked at him. Draco wasn’t sure yet either, but now that it was said he rather liked the sound of it. “Would you-, I mean, is it okay if-”

“If Scorpius is okay with it,” Harry blurted before Draco could even finish asking. “My kids have been calling you their second dad for a while now. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

Draco’s cheeks bloomed pink. “I thought it was just a joke, or an easier way to say things.”

“Draco, family will never be a joke to any Potter.” Draco had never heard Harry talk so seriously. “If you still haven’t figured out that you’re stuck with us by now then you’re the idiot in this relationship.”

“That implies that you would be the idiot if I weren’t, and I won’t stand for that, Potter.” Draco knew he was refusing to admit Harry’s point, but he was already such a mess with everything going on that he didn’t need this adding to it. Not that he didn’t feel his heart grow three sizes when Harry said that. “I just hope we’ll keep-, we’ll keep-”

Draco couldn’t say it. It was one thing to think about losing your son, but it was quite another to actually say it out loud. Luckily, Harry knew what he meant anyway.

“Of course Scorpius will stay part of our family. I told you, he’s a fighter. He’s going to be alright.”

“Of course,” Draco chuckled, because if he cried then he didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop. No matter how determinedly he said ‘of course’, in the end he still didn’t know anything. They still anxiously had to wait for another three hours before a nurse came to tell them that Scorpius was out of theatre and would be joining them shortly. Draco’s heart jumped up when he heard that, but it settled down into a pit of fear again when the hospital staff rolled the empty bed out of the room and replaced it with the one Scorpius was in.

He looked so small. So impossibly small amidst all that white linen. His lips were blue, his skin was close to grey and his eyes were open for only a smidge. Still, despite still being out of it from narcotics, Scorpius wrestled an arm out from underneath the duvet and reached out for him. “Hi Dad.”

Draco’s heart broke, but he didn’t let that show on his face. Instead he smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, taking the hand Scorpius was offering him and squeezing it. His fingers were icy cold. “Hi, love. How are you feeling?”

“‘M scared,” he muttered. “Cold.”

“Shall I lie with you and warm you up?” Scorpius nodded and Draco was under the duvet before his son could even blink.

“Feels safe.” Scorpius murmured as he curled up against his father’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“What on earth for?”

“For being sick. I know you don’t like that.” Despite biting his lip Draco couldn’t stop the small sound escaping his throat. He would never understand how his son had turned into such a nice person, because he definitely hadn’t taught him that. Maybe despite her early passing, Astoria had still managed to pass on her kindness to their son.

“Are you mad at me?” Scorpius asked.

“No, Scorpius. I am never mad at you.” Draco actively had to stop himself from pulling his son close and kissing his forehead, because he knew that especially in situations like this, he should let Scorpius come to him or just leave him alone. The little guy felt shit enough already, he shouldn’t add to that. “I just hope you’ll get better soon because I want you to feel healthy and happy, okay? But I’m never mad.”

Behind him a quiet sob reminded him that Harry was still in the room. He turned around to look at him, but Harry just shook his head and gestured for Draco to turn back to Scorpius. “I’m okay, Draco.” Harry smiled through his tears and stepped closer to squeeze Draco’s shoulder for a bit. “I just need to go and ask for a hug from my kids. Plus, I promised them I would tell them how Scorp is doing.”

“I’m alright,” Scorpius piped up, trying his best to make his voice sound full instead of cracked from exhaustion and narcotics. “‘M just tired.”

“Then you go to sleep.” Harry shot Scorpius an encouraging smile. “I promise me and your dad will be right there when you wake up.”

Scorpius gave one more small nod before he fell back asleep. It took a while before Draco could tear his eyes away from his sleeping son, but once he did he reached out to Harry and briefly squeezed his hands. “Tell your kids I’m sorry I let myself panic like that when we got here. And that I’m proud of them for behaving the way they did, especially James.”

Harry chuckled. “Is that a Malfoy trait now? Apologising for things that aren’t your fault?”

“Harry, I had a panic attack in front of your kids.” Draco cast a discreet silencing charm around his son’s head so their talking wouldn’t accidentally wake him up. “I was hyperventilating and I’m pretty sure I smashed a vial of calming draught on the floor when a nurse tried to calm me down. That must have been terrifying for them. I’m not joking when I say I’m sorry.”

“Of course. Sorry, I shouldn’t have joked about that.” Harry had turned serious once he realised Draco was right. Luckily he so far didn’t seem angry yet, though Draco didn’t doubt that was still to come. He probably only got spared now due to the circumstances. “But our kids are tough.” Harry continued. “I’m sure they’ll manage.”

“Of course,” Draco replied. Harry squeezed his hand one more time before exiting the room, leaving Draco alone with his son. Draco turned his face towards him, studying his skin, his bluish lips, his slowly moving chest. He thought of last time this had happened, the unexpected symptoms of the curse, the many healers constantly prodding and poking his son as if he was some sort of doll….

He hoped this time that wouldn’t happen. They knew more about the curse now, and if anyone treated Scorpius unfairly he could always set Harry on them. His boyfriend hated using his fame, and Draco was even more reluctant to use Harry’s name to fix his own problems, but when it came to kids they would use everything they could.

* * *

 

Draco startled awake when there was a knock on the door.

“Can I enter?”

He looked up to see Mrs Weasley in the door opening. She was holding two steaming mugs of tea and looked somewhat apologetic. That last bit was the only reason why Draco nodded _yes_ and beckoned her to come in. He put a fresh silencing charm around Scorp’s head and sat up. Despite having been asleep moments before, he was wide awake now. Especially now, when his son was once again in the middle of the situation that had made him touch shy in the first place, Draco wasn’t backing down from his principles.

“I had a quite a good chat with your mother just now.” Mrs Weasley started after she’d sat down and they’d shared a few minutes of awkward silence. “It seems I owe you an apology. Your parenting methods might not be the same as mine, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t respect them.”

Draco did not like the way she phrased that. As if a parenting method decided whether or not it was okay to disrespect the boundaries of a child. “My parenting methods are based on principles I believe everyone should adhere to. And my boyfriend and your daughter agree with me on that, as do many others,” he said a tad coldly. “It’s the boundaries of children that you should respect.”

He half expected Mrs Weasley to get mad at him again, but instead she just smiled. “Your mother said exactly the same thing to me moments ago. She said a great deal of other things too. Things I’ve been too proud to admit for a while.” Her smile got a sad touch to it, before it melted away entirely. Her gaze was fixed on a piece of bedframe when she spoke next, her eyes somewhat watery. “It’s not easy, growing old, you know? You feel so proud every time your kids learn something new at first, but later on each new thing just makes you feel a little bit more redundant. Getting parenting advice from your own children is the last stage of that process, because then you truly have nothing left to teach them. People don’t need you anymore.”

Draco didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t know how Mrs Weasley meant it. Would she cling to her old ways because they made her feel useful, and did she expect Draco to grant her that pleasure? Or had she only just acknowledged this was the reason behind her actions, and did that mean she was willing to change?

“I’ve never found it to be very healthy to live for others instead of yourself,” he said eventually, when the silence became unbearable for him. “Your self worth shouldn’t be determined by what other people need from you. Even as a parent.”

“I know, son.” Mrs Weasley looked up, and to his relief her eyes were dry. “But when you’re old like I am, that’s not an easy thing to realise, or an easy thing to change. I’m afraid my blindness caused your son harm, so I came here to apologise, and to tell you that I am trying to change my ways. The way you treat Scorpius, especially under these circumstances… It showed me there’s a better way, I just wasn’t willing to see it.”

Draco was reminded of his conversation with Harry from a while back. _Around you, people get called out on their bullshit_. Maybe that was true. But at the very least he now knew this was a proper apology, which meant he could forgive Mrs Weasley.

“My mother has a tendency to make people see sense.” A smile crept onto his face as he thought of the woman. “I’m glad she had the same effect on you. And it’s up to Scorpius, of course, but if you show you’re making changes then I can put this all behind me.”

“I’m glad to hear that, son.” Mrs Weasley got up from her chair and held out her hand, squeezing a little when Draco took it. “And I wish Scorpius the very best. I hope he’ll be back on his feet soon.”

 _I hope so too_. He thought as he quietly watched the Weasley matriarch leave. At some point in the future he would talk to her again, once his son was alright, and apologise for some of the things he’d said himself. But for now, he had more important things to focus on. Scorpius stirred in his sleep, and Draco lay down next to him again, careful not to invade his space without removing his body heat. The tea Mrs Weasley had brought as a peace offering was still cooling on the nightstand, the mugs long forgotten now.

But the apology that had come with it was something Draco would not soon forget.

* * *

 

Test results and a detailed analysis from the operation came in the next day, just after Harry was done massaging the knots out of Draco’s back. Scorpius had looked a bit better in the morning, but Draco didn’t dare get his hopes up. He knew the horrible relapses from the blood curse like no other.

It was quite funny to watch Harry’s confused face from the corner of his eye as he listened to the story from Scorpius’ healer. After basically living in the hospital for over a year, Draco knew the jargon, but to Harry everything had to sound like a strange mix of difficult words.

For once this time though, the difficult words weren’t just a shield to hide behind while presenting bad results. Scorpius had a long road to recovery to go because his natural magic had basically been knocked over the head with a hammer, but only because that cut off the magic supply to the curse, meaning that it would be weak enough to remove fully in a few weeks. Scorpius would have to stay in hospital for that time, getting thrice weekly check ups to ensure the curse wasn’t up to any funny business. If all went according to plan, Scorpius would be fully healthy again in just two months.

There were some _if_ ’s to it, but Draco had never had a such a hopeful talk before. Something inside him told him this was going to work, and he resolutely refused to listen to any of the other voices inside his head.

“And that’s the end of this update for now, Mr Malfoy.” Scorpius’ Healer concluded. “Do you have any questions?”

Draco bit his bottom lip and thought about that for a moment. There was one thing he’d asked before and the answer had been negative then, but maybe it was worth it to try again. “Could the Healers ask my son’s consent before they check him over? Make sure he knows what is going to happen?”

“That’s not our standard procedure, Mr Malfoy.” The Healer pointed out. Draco grumbled. It wasn’t just Mrs weasley who was stuck in old patterns and habits. Besides him, Harry sat up a little straighter, no doubt wearing his old but still effective Auror face. Though he hated that this was what it took, Draco was more than happy when the movement finally made the Healer recoil. “But I’ll make sure to pass the request along to our staff, Mr Malfoy.”

“Thank you.” Draco rose to his feet and shook the Healer’s hand. It was the last thing he did, before he almost took off running back to his son. He still found it ridiculous that Scorpius, just because he was a child, never got any kind of explanation about what was going on. As if he didn’t have the right to  know what was going on in his own body. It wasn’t even that hard to explain.

St Mungo’s definitely still had a long way to go, but at least he had the Healer’s word now. Baby steps.

“Hi Dad.” Scorpius greeted him with a wave that was noticeably more energetic than the day before. He was clearly dead nervous and scared though. “How did it go?”

“Good.” Draco grinned. “You’re going to be alright.”

“I am?” Scorpius asked at the same time that Harry said, “he is?”

“Yes.” Draco beckoned for Harry to come closer, before he turned back to Scorpius. “Can I give you a hug?”

“No!” Scorpius said happily, smiling even though he was still too weak to even sit up. “I want a group hug. From both my dads. Can I get that?”

Draco briefly locked eyes with Harry. They exchanged a knowing smile, and then replied together. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading. This fic has ran away from me so hard I'm still panting from trying to keep up. It was supposed to be 12k shorter and about quite different things but alas, Draco and Harry and Scorp had different ideas. I really hope you liked it regardless, though<3
> 
> A note on consent:  
> Giving consent is a topic that usually concerns sex, but it's so important in other walks of life. Whether romantic, sexual or something else entirely, a touch should always have consent. That's not always something people think about, and saying 'no' when no one asked you if you wanted something or not is always an extra hurdle. I wanted to illuminate that with this fic, show how important it is to ask because especially for a touch shy child it's hard to keep saying no since adults don't always listen.  
> In this case, Molly didn't listen, because asking for explicit consent is sadly only a fairly recent trend in sex, but so is abolishing corporal punishments and respecting the wishes of a child in the world of parenting. We've come a long way in the past decades, but there's still a lot of awareness to create. I am a big fan of hugging, but I too have my days when I want to be left alone, and so do many others. Asking is key to comfort for all. I hope this fic will make people think about that, and that it will make asking for consent in any context feel more normal.  
> Thank you so much for reading<3  
> ~Mystery Author


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